


Benevolent Haunting

by Hypnobyl



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Don't worry--this isn't a story about losing Holtzmann, F/F, It's a story about finding her, There is no character death, but a character is dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-07-24 17:57:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 108
Words: 124,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7517804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypnobyl/pseuds/Hypnobyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erin has a ghost in her home, but she doesn't really want to bust it.<br/>Holtzmann is a ghost, but she wants to have a life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

>   
>    
>  [Cover by En](http://ennn.tumblr.com/)   
> 

Despite being highly invested in hunting paranormal entities, it takes an embarrassingly long time for Erin to figure out that someone--something?--is haunting her apartment. The signs are subtle, and she writes off the odd smells as something burning in the Thai restaurant directly adjacent to her building. When things are a little out of place, she can’t remember if she’d moved them herself while utterly distracted by a new haunting.

It’s only when she awakens at just after two in the morning and spots the shadowy outline at the foot of her bed that she realizes. She’s not afraid of ghosts, especially not after fighting them so directly, but she usually feels some form of anxiety when in their presence. They are, after all, visitors from a plane of existence unlike her own. Rather than tension, she feels oddly at peace as she stares at the amorphous shape hovering near her toes.

She reaches to turn her bedside lamp on, but the figure disappears. Tired and confused, she rubs her eyes and wonders if there’s truly something supernatural going on or if she’s only being haunted by her work, which won’t just stay at the firehouse. She could have been seeing things, and she’s not ready to go through the same ordeal as when she was a child. Abby would believe her, of course, but who else would?

0-0-0

When she comes home two days later, she finds a picture frame knocked over. She rights it and carefully combs through her belongings to see if anything else has been altered. The only other change, which she’s not even sure is real or her imagination, is that her underwear drawer is slightly open. This could, of course, have been her own rushing to leave for work that morning, but she’s no longer certain.

0-0-0

She sets a vibrating alarm for two in the morning and wakes groggily. She nearly goes back to sleep before she remembers why she interrupted her rest in the first place; she sits up and scans the dark of her room. For half an hour, she barely blinks. Finally, she decides she must have been hallucinating and lies back down. She sighs and presses her cheek to the cool linen of her pillow case. Something cool touches her other cheek, and she bolts to her feet, scrambling for both her phone and the light switch. Finger hovering over Abby’s number, she glares around the illuminated room, daring the specter to return.

Everything is eerily still.

Heart hammering, she turns the light off again, pads back to bed, and slides under the sheets. No matter how hard she tries, she can’t fall asleep again. She keeps wishing for that gentle touch on her face once more, although she can’t fathom why.

0-0-0

Abby won’t let her just walk away with their valuable equipment. Erin swears that she won’t break anything and that she’s more than responsible enough to take care of what looks to be a converted Walkman for a single night. When Abby relents and says she can borrow it if she explains why she needs it, Erin huffs and puffs and puts the device back. She loves Abby, but she doesn’t want to turn her apartment into the newest setting of their investigations.

Instead, she waits until Abby is arguing with Patty about ordering Chinese takeout and then pockets the Walkman, which will hopefully record any EVP that occurs that evening. Rather than wait around for the haunting to happen to her, Erin decides she’s going to take the ghost by the horns, so to speak. Ghosts usually want something, and she’s going to find out what.

She returns home, locks the door, and strides to her room, where most of the activity has been happening. Sitting on her bed, she preps the Walkman and clears her throat.

“This is Dr. Erin Gilbert recording an EVP track in the bedroom at 341 Elm Street, Unit 3. Occupant has reported moving objects and a spectral presence. I will attempt to record aural evidence to help support or debunk the happenings at this location.

“If there is any being here that wishes to make contact, please do so now.” She waits patiently for ten seconds and then asks, “What is your name?”

The list of questions goes on and on, and she repeats the experiment at just after two in the morning. Clutching the device close, she hurries back to work at eight, avoids Abby’s complaints about unprofessional behavior, and settles into a dark corner with a play-back machine.

“What is your name?”

After a period of silence, she hears a raspy, “Holtz.”

She jams the pause button and sucks in several deep breaths. Afraid that either Abby or Patty will interrupt her, she tries to look calm and normal. Nonchalant, even though she’s hearing literally the clearest EVP of her life.

“What do you want?”

“You.”

Although the word could have been threatening, Erin flushes from minute embarrassment rather than fear. She hasn’t felt anything remotely malignant about this spirit, so she doesn’t think she’s in any danger.

“Where did you come from?” There is no answer, and Erin replays the section twice more to make sure before she lets the recording continue. The rest of the questions have identical results, and she resigns herself to the fact that her ghost, this Holtz, isn’t very forthcoming.

Not deterred in the slightest, she manipulates Patty into investigating her building, claiming that her neighbors told her that someone was murdered there. She is the ghost-girl, and she’s used to people telling her ridiculous stories all the time--but it would be irresponsible of her to not at least investigate the building’s history. Patty eyes her knowingly but does as she requests.

Later, when she returns home, she waits until just after two, starts the Walkman back up, and says, “You’re Jillian Holtzmann, right?”

The building creaks around her, so she adds, “You grew up in this building, or in the building that was here before this one. But you blew it up with an invention.”

Suddenly, the air in the room feels too thick to breathe. Erin closes her eyes and holds steady.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the truth. Why are you here? What do you want with me? Do you know who I am?”

The cool pressure is on her cheek again, but this time it spreads to her lips. She feels like she’s being kissed. Her eyes flutter closed. When they open again, the room is quiet and empty.

0-0-0

“Erin, I know what you’re up to.” Abby tosses the Walkman into her lap, and Erin flinches. “Ghost-girl has a ghost-girlfriend, huh?”

“That’s not--What?” Erin flaps a hand and pshaws the very thought. She thinks about what seemed like a kiss the night before. She wonders if anyone has ever successfully had a relationship of any sort that spanned from one plane of existence to the other. She banishes the thought, feeling more than a bit silly.

“You know we can’t just let ghosts roam all over the city.”

Her room doesn’t count, she wants to say. Her ghost isn’t malevolent or causing harm. Her ghost just goes through her panty drawer. “I know,” she replies, voice tight.

“So, when were you going to tell us about this?”

Never, Erin thinks. “As soon as I could confirm its presence.”

“From what I hear, you had evidence a while back, Dr. Gilbert.”

“Well,” she says weakly, “you can’t just draw a conclusion from one set of data. I had to make sure--”

“Science,” Abby interrupts dismissively. “All well and good when you’re not dealing with an actual ghost. And if you were really interested in supporting the presence of this ghost, you would have called us in from the start.”

“I didn’t want to waste anyone’s time.” She stands up and frowns. She’s not very tall, and she’s not very muscular, so she knows she’s hardly intimidating. In fact, she knows from first hand experience that Abby can throw her across the room.

“I think you wanted to do this one by yourself. The only hypothesis you were trying to support is that you can do this by yourself. You’ve never been a team player, Erin, and you were just looking for your first chance to leave us.”

This wound will never heal. Erin swallows hard and shakes her head. “It’s not like that. I just…”

“What?” In contrast to Erin’s mousy demeanor, Abby is a pufferfish, who explodes outward when agitated.

“I like her,” Erin spits out.

Abby deflates immediately. She sets a hand on Erin’s shoulder. “Do you want me to do it?”

“No.”

“You don’t have to make this like Old Yeller.”

“I do,” Erin counters. This time when she leaves for home, she doesn’t bring the Walkman. She grabs a containment unit and a gun.


	2. Chapter 2

Erin sets the containment unit down. She doesn’t want to do this; this is her second encounter with a non-malevolent spirit, and she’d rather learn than destroy. Abby insists that she’s very close to a means to display and contain their catches, like some sort of haunted zoo, but even that makes Erin uncomfortable. Regardless of current form, most ghosts were once people.

She knows for a fact that her current haunting was. After confirming Holtz’s identity, she did a little more searching, and now, she feels like she knows her ghost better than most of the people in her life. Jillian Holtzmann: a twenty-nine-year-old inventor who graduated from MIT with a Master’s in Mechanical Engineering and a tacit dislike for authority. She lived alone in this location until ten years ago, when one of her creations met with an unlucky spark of electricity. The whole building went down, and her body was never recovered.

From the pictures, Jillian was an attractive woman, Erin notes, staring at the containment unit. The sort of woman she’d have drooled over, from the dimpled smile to the shock of stylized hair. When she realizes that she’s imagining meeting Jillian pre-death, she shakes her head and refocuses. There’s no time for what-ifs and impossible scenarios.

“Jillian, if you’re here, we have to talk.”

As a child, she’d been too afraid of the dangers of Ouija boards to use one. Now, however, she’s too curious about direct communication with her ghost, so she picked one up from one of the toy stores downtown. She unwraps the box, pulls out the board, and tosses the planchette down. She prepares to place her fingers down, as per the instructions, when the planchette moves of its own accord.

“Here.”

“Oh.” Erin glances around the room, wondering where Jillian is. A familiar cool touch to her left helps guide her attention. “Hello.”

The planchette’s next message takes a while to spell out, and Erin nearly loses track of the letters. At the end, she snorts. “You come here often?”

“I live here now.” Rather than let the conversation get derailed, Erin clears her throat. “The problem is that you can’t. Live here now, I mean.”

“Can.”

“My friends know you exist. They--we--hunt ghosts. Which you are. So, you can see the problem.”

The planchette is motionless, and Erin is afraid she’s alone now. A set of ghostly fingers materialize on her forearm and trail up to her shoulder. When a hand follows after and cups her cheek, she can’t stop herself from leaning into the touch.

“How?”

An ethereal voice beside her ear whispers, “Practice.”

She shivers not unpleasantly. For the first time in her life, she acts on impulse rather than careful planning and kisses the translucent palm. The feeling fades, and she sucks in a deep breath.

“Are you still here?”

The planchette wobbles up to the YES. Guessing that her guest is running out of steam, Erin decides to use the rest of their time communicating for her original purpose.

“I’m not going to hunt you. My friends are designing a field that will allow spectral beings to manifest safely without endangering the living.” She hesitates, knowing that her description leaves out how much of a cage this field will be. “I’ll wait to bring you in until that’s ready.”

After a moment, the planchette scoots very slowly toward NO but doesn’t quite reach its destination. Erin asks a few more questions but realizes that Jillian is either no longer willing to talk or has left. She gathers her supplies and resolves to report the next morning that her ghost didn’t show up the night before.

0-0-0

Abby walks her home under the pretense of telling her a story about a particularly raucous party at her undergraduate institute wherein she got not one, not two, but three different men’s numbers--and only one of them was a fake. Erin wonders if this story is fabricated or exaggerated, but she’s seen her friend at bars. Although the talk of ghosts sometimes puts prospective suitors off, Abby snags her fair share of one night stands, and even a few who try to stick around in the morning. As far as Erin knows, Abby dismisses them all; the only relationship she wants is with science, or really maybe a polyamorous lifestyle with science and ghosts.

As they approach the door to Erin’s apartment, Abby sets a hand on her arm. “Look, the point is that I’m no stranger to falling for weirdos, okay?”

Erin stares blankly at her. “What?”

“We all go a little cuckoo sometimes when it comes to the love muscle.” Abby gestures to her crotch. “But you have to know that this isn’t going to work.”

“I still don’t know what you mean,” Erin sputters. She stands as primly as she can and unlocks her door. That she touched herself to the thought of her ghost the night before is completely irrelevant, as was the thrill of the idea that her ghost might have been watching.

“Yeah, sure.” Abby rolls her eyes and rather than leave Erin to her business, steps inside. “I see you’ve redecorated.”

Not the quickest to understand sarcasm, Erin glances around and shrugs. There isn’t much on the walls, but she has displayed a picture of herself, Abby, and Patty in front of the firehouse. She supposes this must be what Abby is referring to--and then recognizes Abby’s penchant for overstatement and subtle humor.

“Well, I really prefer blank spaces. Nothing to distract me from the thoughts, you know.” Erin clears her throat nervously as Abby paces down her hallway, through her kitchen, and into her bedroom. Jillian usually shows up at night, but with the ghost’s powers increasing, she doesn’t want to chance Abby doing something awful. “Hey, can I get you something to drink? In the kitchen?”

“Whattaya got?” Abby doesn’t return to the kitchen immediately, and Erin’s throat constricts at the sound of papers rustling in her room.

“Water, sparkling water, flavored water--”

Abby reappears, a sheet of notebook paper in her hand. “Flavored sparkling water?”

“Yes. What’s that?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing. I thought you were our particle physics gal?”

“I am?”

“Then why are you scribbling doodles that look like engineering?”

Erin snatches the paper and examines the intricate drawings. The lines are wobbly, as if the drawer didn’t have complete control, but the designs are good. She’s not sure what she’s looking at, but she knows she has to make something up to soothe Abby’s worries.

“It’s a work in progress,” she lies quickly. “I don’t want to talk about it, yet. I still have some research to conduct before it’s even ready for a prototype.”

“Oh.” Abby scoots past her and gets a glass of sparkling raspberry water.

Erin smiles, enjoying that Abby still feels comfortable in her home, even after their small spat. When they were children, Abby was notorious for helping herself to whatever was in the fridge, which delighted Erin and pissed off her mom. She just wishes that Abby had a little bit more respect for the more private areas of her home, like her bedroom.

0-0-0

Long after Abby went home, Erin sets the Ouija board up and calls out a greeting. Tonight, however, the planchette doesn’t even tremble. She sits and waits until she can no longer keep her eyes open and then succumbs to her exhaustion. She falls asleep on the hard floor without so much as a blanket or a pillow, although when she awakens in the morning, the cat-print blanket that sits at the foot of her bed is draped clumsily around her shoulders.

She gets shakily to her feet and regrets her night spent on the ground, as her shoulders are stiff and her back aches. To add insult to injury, the planchette is still in the same spot as the night previous, so Erin gathers the blanket around her and trudges to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. She spots the design Abby’d discovered and narrows her eyes. There’s now a title scribbled at the top: Materialization Belt.


	3. Chapter 3

Patty taps away at her keyboard as Erin lingers nearby. The snap of her hot-pink nails clicking each key is rather comforting, and Erin doesn’t want to interrupt. They have an actual case to research, so she doesn’t want to drag her own worries in and disrupt Patty’s flow. The woman is magnificent when it comes to research, and Erin wishes she’d had Patty’s help during the preliminary stages of her doctoral dissertation. While Patty’s true love is history, Erin can’t help but wonder what else she’d excel at if her passion were piqued.

Likely anything, Erin decides. She’s learned that her tall friend is the most determined person she’s ever met but also one of the kindest, which is why Erin sort of really wants to discuss the problem of her ghost girlfriend. Unlike Abby, who hides her fond feelings behind barbed remarks, Patty will be painfully honest.

Patty eventually slows, her eyes drifting from the web page detailing a barbaric massacre half a century ago to Erin’s pale cheeks and shifting gaze. “You doin’ okay?”

“Fine,” Erin spits out too quickly.

“You need something?”

Erin shakes her head, tossing her bangs from side to side. “I was just curious. You know us scientists…”

Patty frowns and nods. “Yeah, sure.”

“Did you believe in ghosts before the incident in the subway?”

“I always figured there was more than what we can see. There’s too much history in New York for some of it to not come back now and then.”

“Do you think some ghosts are capable of thinking? Of having a real conversation?”

“I’m no expert--”

“At what?” Abby enters, a mangled proton blaster dangling off her hip. Her clothing is scorched, and part of an eyebrow appears singed away.

“Ghosts,” Patty replies.

“That’s my area of specialty,” Abby tilts her head up imperiously, an effect that is hindered by her still-smoking gun and blistered fingertips.

“We’re just talking theoretically,” Erin says. While Patty might have the good sense not to probe too deeply, Abby lacks tact. If she mentions anything about Jillian now, Abby will draw the wrong--the right? Erin wonders--conclusion and not budge from her position.

“I love theories.” Abby sits and cocks her head. When Erin hesitates, she waves her hand as if to say ‘continue, please.’

“I was just considering the possibility that spirits could continue thinking.”

“Their brains are just gatherings of energy--”

“How’s that different than ours?” Patty asks.

“Our energy can forge new connections. We’re alive. We’re capable of that. Ghosts aren’t--”

“From what we know, which isn’t everything.” Erin avoids making eye contact. She can’t explain why, but she feels, deep in her gut, that Jillian is smart and present--not just some echo caught forever doing the same thing and not some vengeful spirit only out for revenge.

“Okay. Yes. Based on current evidence--of which we have a literal butt-ton--the possibility is slim to none.”

“Wouldn’t that be a great discovery--”

Abby lifts a hand. “Erin, I love ghosts, but I’m not in love with ghosts.”

“Me, neither.” When Abby makes a noise halfway between a disgruntled huff and startled laugh, Erin grimaces. “Well, love is a strong word, and it’s just one ghost.”

“You need to catch it.”

Erin stops herself from correcting Abby’s use of incorrect pronoun. If she does so, she’ll just be proving Abby’s point: she’s lost sight of what’s important to their work. She’s not going to throw their funding down the drain by getting involved with a spirit. If the mayor’s office found out… She sighs and nods.

“I will. The next time it comes around, I’ll have that trap ready. Scout’s honor.” She lifts her fingers and salutes, and she’s fairly sure Abby knows she’s lying. If she can just figure out how to make that Materialization Belt, then maybe she won’t ever need to waste a single fire of her blaster. She’s uncertain as to what the belt will do, but she guesses it will help Jillian maintain a corporeal form.

0-0-0

She dumps a pile of parts on her bedroom floor and peers at the scribbles Jillian left behind. She’s a scientist, so this shouldn’t be that hard. Except that her experience with science is highly theoretical, and her experiments tend to take place using equipment other scientists have crafted. She hasn’t built anything by hand since she was seventeen and attempting to make a device to detect instant temperature changes. She’d given that up after three days of accidentally cutting herself, dropping her tools on her toes, and having Abby laugh in her face.

This time, she’s not going to give up. She wants to see Jillian. She needs to, really, and that’s motivation enough to work through any imminent pains or problems. Piece by piece, she assembles the device, only to realize she left a vital part out and will have to start again. She runs a hand through her lanky hair and hopes she remembers to take an Advil before bed to avoid pain from hunching over for a few hours. A pair of hands rest on her shoulders and knead. Surprised, she jumps.

A now familiar voice whispers in her ear, “Practice.”

Her eyes close as cold lips press just below her earlobe. That spot has always left her weak in the knees, and she’s a few moments away from pushing her project away and exploring how far she can take things with a ghost. However, Jillian is gone a moment later, and there’s a knock at the door. Erin breathes heavily, calming both her heart and the fire burning in her belly.

Patty stands in the doorway with a bottle of rumchata in one hand. Erin gestures for her to enter and then follows the other woman to the small room that acted as both her living room and her dining area. The table had been folded and hidden in the quarter, so there is plenty of space for them to sit on the floor. Erin snags two shot glasses from the kitchen, and Patty promptly pours some for both of them.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why are you here?”

Patty tips her shot glass back. “I may not be the ghost expert, but I am curious.”

“Curious?”

“About your thinking ghost.”

“You believe me?” Erin lifts the shot glass to her lips and gulps the sweet warmth down.

“I think Abby wants to, but she’s caught a case of the you’s.” Patty points at Erin to clarify her statement.

“The me’s?”

“Now that we have a legitimate reputation, she wants to keep it. She worked for a long time without recognition or appreciation. She does want to be respected, even if she won’t admit it, and if you two start talking about a sentient ghost--” Patty trails off and shrugs. “I think that’s why she wants you to bring it in. For proof.”

“The thing is, she doesn’t want to come in.” Erin glances over her shoulder toward the bedroom. “I asked her with a Ouija board. She’s not exactly into the idea.”

“Is she here right now?”

“I don’t know.” Erin pours another shot, downs it, and stands. The rumchata isn’t very strong, but she’s got a low tolerance. Tottering about, she heads for her room and retrieves the Ouija board, which she presents to Patty. “You can ask.”

Patty sets the planchette down, fingers in position, and asks, “Hey, sentient ghost lady. Are you around?”

Erin feels fingers trailing down her back. She sits straighter and covers her yelp with a cough. Patty eyes her and tries again. This time, Jillian’s hand slides around the curve of her waist and splays against her stomach.

Somehow mustering the strength to keep her voice calm, Erin murmurs. “She’s definitely here.”

“She’s not responding.”

“She’s here,” Erin repeats. The hand is firm, and she can almost feel Jillian pressed to her back. “I have it on good authority.”

“Then why isn’t she talking?”

“Maybe you aren’t asking the right questions.”

Patty reaches for the rumchata; when her hands leave the board, the planchette zooms to YES. Scooting back in surprise, Patty slugs straight from the bottle. Erin takes the bottle from her and drinks as well, aware that this is going to be a long night.


	4. Chapter 4

She lies in bed and examines the cracks in the ceiling. The room is quiet, and she thinks she’s alone. After an evening of watching Jillian interact with Patty, she’s emotionally spent. She thought she’d had some sort of special connection to her ghost--heretofore referred to mentally as The Ghost because clearly Jillian isn’t hers. No, Jillian is apparently more outgoing as a ghost than her file suggests she was alive.

She curls onto her side. Just once, she wishes she could be enough. Her parents to this day think of her as a disappointment. No amount of academic success can chase away their memories of her sobbing in the living room, begging not to be sent to therapy while insisting there was a ghost in her room every night. Even Abby, who was her only friend for years, made friends with others and eventually moved on without her. She sniffles, not bothering to wipe an errant tear before it dribbles down her nose and hits the pillow.

Uncomfortable, she tosses onto her other side and stares at the half-built Materialization Belt shoved hastily against the wall to keep it from being a tripping hazard while she isn’t working on it. For several minutes, she considers throwing the device out and using the containment device, just like Abby wants. She doesn’t owe Jillian anything, after all. Then again, she’s not a petty person. Despite everything, she’s a people pleaser, and that trait seems to extend to ghosts as well.

She squeezes her eyes shut but realizes that no matter what her decision is, she won’t be getting any sleep that night.

0-0-0

She drags her feet as she follows Abby into a haunted zoo. She loves her job, but heart is flagging. This, at least, should be an odd but interesting distraction: according to Patty’s research, the area was once the home of a cattle slaughtering factory. She shouldn’t be surprised by the existence of animal ghosts, especially given her recent experiences, but she’s a bit apprehensive of dealing with angry cow spirits charging her down. They can’t be any worse than other ghosts, she guesses.

Abby, on the other hand, is ecstatic. 

“We’ve almost got that field worked out, so can you imagine if we catch more animals? We could have a ghost zoo, like for real. It could help with our funding--”

As Abby jogs, her blaster bumps against her hip. Erin holds her own gun steady, even though her pace is significantly slower and doesn’t bounce her weapon around nearly as much. Patty matches her gait by taking smaller steps.

Unconcerned with their current mission, Patty shakes her head slowly and says, “So, that last night was legit crazy.”

“That’s what I thought the first time, too.”

“You have a sentient ghost haunting your apartment.”

“I know.”

Patty shakes her head. The golden necklace twisted into an elegant script of her name flashes in the dim street lighting with each step. Like Erin, she cradles her gun to avoid breaking their sensitive, barely-tested equipment. “We need to talk to Abby.”

“I’m not ready for that.”

“If you let her see--”

“She’ll think I’m holding out. She’ll be angry.” Erin tightens her grip as something moos in the distance. She aims her gun into the shadows and waits, but no further sounds echo out of the darkness.

“She might understand.” Patty tilts her head in the direction Abby is still moving. Erin hurries after again. “She might surprise you.”

“I’ve known her a long time.”

“People change.”

“Do they?” Erin considers her parents, who still avoid talking about her current profession--like she’s diseased rather than pursuing her passion. The way they sidestep the topic is almost elegant, and she’d admire their tact if it weren’t so hurtful. They’d had a similar reaction to her coming out as bisexual.

“Besides, she might be able to help.”

“How?” Erin loses control of her temper, her voice pitching up, and immediately regrets her tone. Thankfully, Patty doesn’t seem bothered.

“Your ghost mentioned that device you’re helping her build.”

“She’s not my ghost,” Erin replies bitterly. She ignores the disbelieving look Patty shoots her. “She’s a ghost who happens to haunt my apartment.”

“Sure.” Patty skids to a stop as a ghastly green cow charges toward them.

0-0-0

The planchette zooms around the Ouija board, but Erin pays it no mind. She stares at the same page of an academic journal for a minute and then turns the page, as if simply looking at the words will somehow grant her knowledge. While she doesn’t want to capture the ghost, she also doesn’t have to pay attention. She’ll finish the belt and then move.

Part of her problem, she realizes, is that she always falls for the impossible. In high school, there was Jean, the foreign exchange student from Nice who was only there for six months. He barely spoke English, but he smiled at her. He smiled at her a lot. In college, she’d pined for her Advanced Physics T.A., who was a stout redhead with a keen mind and a sharp wit. Knowing the difference in their ages and positions, she’d only loved from afar. Then there was Kevin. Poor, simple Kevin who looked great in his jeans but brought up his boyfriend whenever possible.

She wonders if she tries so hard to win affection from impossible sources because she’s a masochist or because there’s a safety net: she doesn’t fail because she’s unlovable; she fails because the other person is unavailable. After years of rejection from her parents, her peers, and her university, she’s built up her defenses so each dismissal hurts less and less.

Apparently, she hasn’t protected herself well enough.

She turns another page and listens to the planchette skittering around. Unable to take the sound any longer, she stands abruptly, tucks her wallet into her pocket, and slams the door on her way out. Although she doesn’t necessarily feel safe on the streets at night, she’d rather find her way to a bar for the evening than spend another moment feeling unwanted.

0-0-0

She braces herself against the wall, letting the cold night air help chase away the instability in her legs. Maybe that last fruity drink had been one too many, she thinks while her mind twirls in circles. A woman touches her lower back, and she hopes hopelessly that somehow the woman is Jillian. Instead, it’s a woman who looks somewhat like her ghost--the ghost, she corrects herself. This woman is Lucy, and Lucy bought her several drinks inside. Were she not so infatuated with an impossibility, she might have been interested. Thankfully, Lucy seems to understand her distraction and keeps her touches on the friendly side of flirtatious.

“Will you make it home okay?”

“Oh, yeah.” She totters about and nearly topples over. Cheek against the bricks, she admits defeat; without help, she’ll probably wind up sleeping in the alley. “Actually, no.”

Lucy laughs. “Want me to call a cab?” 

“Don’t live too far away,” she slurs.

“I could walk you home?” Lucy offers. “I’m not a creep, I promise. I’ll just make sure you get home safe.”

She’s too tired and drunk to worry, so she accepts the Lucy’s hand and mumbles out directions back to her apartment. Thanks to Lucy’s heroic efforts, they make it to her door, and although she drops her keys four times, she gets the door open. Lucy walks her to the couch, eases her down, and then flies back against the wall. Screaming, Lucy lands atop a pile of assorted journals and empty bags of baked veggie chips. She scrambles for the door, uninjured but terrified by the unseen force that flung her six feet.

Erin snoozes, undisturbed by the screech or the bang of her door shutting too quickly. She curls into the couch, unaware of the figure standing beside her. She demurs nonsense as Jillian’s fingers comb through her untidy hair and falls faster asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

“Erin,” Abby speaks gently, and Erin feels like a spooked animal. This feeling is only intensified by the negative feelings roiling about in her belly. Whatever Abby wants to talk about, she’s pretty sure she’s disinterested. She wants Abby--and the world--to leave her alone.

She smiles anyway. “Hey, Abs.”

“Can we talk?”

“Yeah, of course.” Erin makes a big deal out of sorting through the papers on her desk, stacking them neatly, and then balancing her chin on her palm. “What’s up?”

“Patty and I are worried.”

Blowing a raspberry with as much air as she has in her lungs, Erin waves away the concern. She knows her behavior has been a little odd lately, but there’s no reason for anyone to think there’s anything wrong with her.

“Why would--”

Abby grips her shoulders and stares her dead in the eyes. “It’s about your ghost, isn’t it?”

“She’s not my ghost.” She’s said the phrase to herself over and over again, in the hopes that repetition will make the concept easier to swallow. That was a tip her childhood therapist ingrained in her: the more she focuses on and accepts reality, the easier time she’ll have.

Abby laughs derisively but stops when Erin grimaces. Rather than apologize--because that would very much so be an anomaly stranger than ghosts--she switches tactics. “You’ve been distracted.”

“Nobody’s gotten hurt.”

“Not yet.”

Erin shrugs. “I--”

“Before you say anything, just remember that I’m your friend.”

“I know.” Erin pushes her bangs from her forehead. Maybe she’s been fighting this too long. Maybe it is time to call Abby in and get rid of her ghost. “You win. You always do.”

Abby looks a moment away from cheering but manages to maintain a calm demeanor, despite the wiggling at the corner of her lips. “Get talking.”

“Patty came over the other night. She spoke to the ghost.”

“That’s strong evidence that supports your position. I’m surprised you’re not celebrating.”

Feeling foolish, Erin spits out, “Jillian likes her more than me.”

Abby stops fighting her natural urges, and a smile splits her lips. “Jillian, huh?”

“The ghost,” Erin corrects, her cheeks hot. The damage is done, however, and she knows Abby will never let her live this down. “Why are you being so cool about this? I thought you’d still be railing against me to capture her.”

“The ghost isn’t the only one Patty spoke to.” Abby places her hands akimbo and sniffs. “I’m a big enough person to know when to cool it.”

Erin laughs and rubs at her eyes. She won’t cry, but this gruff acceptance of her best friend makes her load that much lighter. She’s tired of fighting, especially alone. “Would you want to talk to her?”

“You’d let me?”

Since Jillian isn’t solely hers, Erin nods. There’s no harm in letting Abby in. Third place isn’t that much different than second, after all, and she’s already lost.

0-0-0

Leaving Abby in the living room with the Ouija board, Erin retreats to the bathroom with a fresh towel and her pajamas. The bath fills slowly, and the hot air coats the mirror; she doesn’t have to look at herself anymore, so she doesn’t mind. Stripping down, she steps into the water and sinks down against the fiberglass of the bathtub. Slowly but surely, she feels some of the day’s tensions bleeding away.

As she soaks, she wonders how well Jillian and Abby are getting along. They seem as though they’d bond fast, they’re similar enough: destructive, passionate, and wickedly smart. Breaking them apart would be like splitting atoms. She wishes she had that sort of connection with Jillian. Well, she amends, with anyone--but especially Jillian.

She’s got to just let this go.

She reaches for her duck-shaped loofah and lathers her body with some feminine smelling body wash or another. Let this cleanse be both body and mind, she thinks as she drags the soft object over her gangling elbows and knobbly knees. There’s a squeaking by the sink, which draws her immediate attention. In the steamy mirror, someone has written rather sloppily: Wash Your Back?

Her first instinct is to grab her breasts and reach for a towel, but she stops herself, realizing that modesty in front of a ghost is a little ridiculous. She has no idea how many times Jillian has watched her change and bathe, but this is probably not the first time. While she may not be comfortable with the awkward angles of her body, she’s didn’t let high school boys make her feel bad, and she’s not going to let some dead woman do it either.

“Isn’t Abby trying to talk to you?”

A dot appears, followed by a small u and then a larger one below. Erin stares for a moment and then the image clicks: a winking smiley face.

“She’s not going to believe you exist if you don’t talk to her.” Erin grabs her towel and quickly dries herself off. She’s painfully aware of how red the skin above and along her collarbone gets when she’s embarrassed and so dons a pajama top as quickly as possible. “I’ll go with you.”

She tugs on a pair of baggy plaid pants and hurries to the living room, where Abby is halfway through a bottle of her nicer red wine, which she had been saving for a special occasion. Abby nods in her direction and sips her drink. Although the game board is set up, the planchette is resting on the carpet. Abby nudges it with her toe.

“So far, I don’t think your ghost likes me.”

“She followed me into the bathroom.”

Abby glances beyond her. “So, she’s like… a peeping tom? That sounds pretty malevolent to me.”

“I think she’s trying to be cute.”

“She only died, what, ten years ago, right?”

“I believe so.”

“The definition of cute hasn’t changed in that time span, has it?”

Erin laughs, glad to have her friend on her side. She slides to the ground next to Abby and sets the planchette up afresh. “Jillian, will you say hello to Abby? She’s been my best friend for longer than you’ve been dead.”

The planchette scoots around, and Abby reads out, “What’s shakin?”

“She’s a little unique,” Erin explains, feeling a surge of fondness swelling in her chest. Jillian may not be her ghost, but she’s inexplicably proud of being the first one to have had contact with the dead woman. No matter what, she knows Jillian best.

“Aren’t we all. So, Jillian Holtzmann, what are your intentions toward my best friend here?”

Erin leaps to her feet. “What the fudge ripple ice cream, Abby!”

“It’s my right as best friend to know! If she hurts you, I’ll kill her all over again. I’ll--I’ll invent a new gun that doesn’t just contain energy but, like, destroys it.”

“You can’t--”

“I know,” Abby retorts grouchily. “Maybe it’ll just turn her into a flea, or something. A ghost flea.”

“Abby.”

“Aren’t you at all curious about the answer?”

Erin hesitates, but she recalls with brilliant clarity her motto regarding romance: she can’t fail if she doesn’t try. As badly as she wants a positive answer, she’s not sure she can take a negative one. She yawns and says, “No. I’m a little tired. You take your time with her. I’m sure you’ll have plenty to talk about.”

“If you go to bed, won’t she leave, too?”

“Just a moment.” Erin grabs a blanket and a pillow from her room and curls up near the board. Hopefully her presence will be sufficient, and Abby will learn something from the encounter. 

She closes her eyes and listens to scritching of the planchette as it skitters excitedly from letter to letter. Abby hums under her breath, occasionally exclaiming in an attempt to get her attention. She stolidly pretends to rest, trying to convince herself that she doesn’t care what Jillian wants from her. She cracks an eyelid after a moment, but the planchette has already desisted.

“That’s so interesting, Jill.” Erin stiffens at the familiar nickname, and if Abby notices, she continues undeterred, “So, what’s it like being dead? I’ve always been curious.”


	6. Chapter 6

Erin lasts two days before she bursts. She corners Abby in the lab, squares her shoulders, and demands, “What did Jillian say?”

“Oh, a lot of interesting stuff. It’s fascinating how she’s stronger now than before, and all through strength of will. Some ideas of hers are really worth pursuing, too--”

“That isn’t what I meant, and you know it.” Erin fixes her with as steely a gaze as she can muster.

Abby waggles her eyebrows. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

“I would.”

“Then you can ask her yourself. Later, though. We have some serious work to put into this Materialization Belt if we ever want to get past a prototype. Your ghost is a genius, Erin, but she definitely has a very loose grasp on reality and the realms of possibility. There’s a very high chance this will explode in our faces.”

“She did destroy her entire building,” Erin allows. Still, there’s a little voice inside that insists Jillian wouldn’t purposely put her in danger. Then again, Jillian probably didn’t set out to die, either, but mitigating circumstances are what they are. “Are you almost done?”

“I want to talk to her again about her design. There’s a few parts I changed for better accessibility, and I think we can--”

“I was actually hoping to just have a night to myself.” Erin avoids eye contact. She just wants to go home, sit around in her underwear, and read a few trashy romance novels. Too much has transpired lately, and she just needs a break from the madness. The belt will still be a work in progress later, and Abby doesn’t need to have her conversation immediately. “So, maybe another time?”

Abby releases a put-upon sigh. She turns to examine some blueprints spread out on the table. “So selfish with your pet ghost. Y’know, I think she’d make a pretty neat mascot for the team.”

“She’s a person--”

“A ghost person--”

“--not some sort of circus act--or some dude in a fursuit.”

“That makes her even better. Can you imagine the funding we’d score if we get this belt working, and she’s willing to join our team? People would go nuts for the ghostly ghost hunter.”

“Well, only if she wants to,” Erin agrees, fiddling with the hem of her tweed jacket. “I won’t let you pressure her.”

“You really think I could? She’s older than both of us, unless you consider she’s still twenty-nine and stopped aging posthumously. The logistics of ghost age determination are a bit beyond my pay-grade right now. I wonder if we could create a system of carbon dating, but for ghosts.”

Too late, Erin sees where this is going. “Abby, don’t--”

“You’re already well on your way to being an expert in the field of ghost dating.”

0-0-0

Erin sits in front of the Ouija board but says nothing. She does want to know what Jillian told Abby, but she is also nervous. If Jillian admits to loving her, then she doesn’t know what she’ll do with that information. They exist on different planes, although the two do meet and mix. If Jillian just wants to be friends, then she’ll have to move.

She leans back and closes her eyes, hoping that Jillian will somehow just sense what she wants to know and tell her. However, Jillian has been distant since the conversation with Abby--there are no more light touches or messages on the mirror. She doesn’t hear her name whispered in a soft, sultry voice as she’s trying to fall asleep. She can feel Jillian’s presence in the apartment, but she feels alone.

She clears her throat. “Jillian, are you willing to talk?”

The planchette doesn’t move, which she hopes isn’t a bad sign. It’s possible that Jillian has sapped all of her energy and can’t interact with the physical world for the time being. She rambles a bit about her day and how busy she’s been with work, but her words slowly dry up. All that’s left is to just ask the darn question, but her tongue is dry and her lips seem to be sewn together.

She thinks about the time leading up to her doctoral defense and remembers sitting in the corridor outside the auditorium, her head tucked between her knees and her breathing much too fast. She’d wanted to leave because there was a very strong chance that her dissertation would fail, and she’d have wasted the last six years of her life. But she hadn’t walked away. When they called her name, she’d gotten to her feet and entered the room with her head held high because there was a time for running and a time for digging in her heels; she just had to figure out which was which.

She weighs the pros and cons of her current situation and determines that fleeing now will do nothing but extend her agony. She’d rather not put off the inevitable, and if she ends the evening in tears, at least she doesn’t have to wonder anymore. Besides, if work on the belt continues at its current pace, there may be a very real Jillian to deal with fairly soon. If she doesn’t know by that point, then she won’t know how to handle the situation.

“If you’re here, I have a question.” There is silence, but she forges ahead anyway. She has to try, even if she fails. She got her doctoral degree, after all, and she’s going to get this off her chest. “What do you want from me? What did you tell Abby?”

The resulting silence confuses and deflates her. Maybe Jillian truly isn’t there. She rubs her forehead, realizing that she’s been talking to the wall. Needing a break, she decides that a drink and a snack will help bolster her spirits. She’ll try again later in the evening, as there might be a correlation between Jillian’s strength and the late hour. Shoving the game board away, she stands and heads for the kitchen to get a glass of flavored water. 

She twirls about a moment later as a cool grip nabs her hand and tugs her to the center of the room. Her laptop pops open, and in a fresh web browser, Youtube appears. Uptempo tango music fills the room; Erin stands still. She’s never been one for dancing, as her lack of grace is horribly, painfully apparent the moment she shakes her hips.

Her hesitation is forgotten as Jillian holds her hand and pulls her into a ridiculous embrace and escorts her around the room. As they move, Jillian ripples from translucent to opaque, and she gets her first good look at her roommate. The pictures don’t do Jillian justice, and she wants to melt at the sight of Jillian’s coy smirk.

As the music seems to bleed away, Jillian dips her back, and she doesn’t fear at all that she’ll be dropped. She ought to have been, she realizes as she stares up at her ghost. Jillian isn’t fully firm, but she feels safe bent back as she is.

“What do you want from me?” she whispers.

Jillian hoists her back up and kisses her. She parts her lips, and Jillian’s chilled tongue slides into her hot mouth. The temperature difference sends a shiver of excitement through her, and she clings to Jillian. This answer is much better than she hoped, and a slew of new ideas, problems, and questions crash down on her. Rather than worry, she simply embraces her ghost girlfriend and enjoys the moment.


	7. Chapter 7

She works harder than ever on getting the Materialization Belt working properly, and neither Abby or Patty questions her devotion. Instead, they bring her coffee, assist her with the welding, and let her ramble through her ideas. They don’t have much to add, having already provided their input in the planning stages, but she appreciates their willingness to smile and nod, even when she’s probably sounding a little crazy.

A week into her onslaught, her current attempt sparks and pops and then won’t turn on again. She checks the wiring and discovers that the current layout matches her blueprint, which means there’s something inherently wrong with the design. She presses her head into her hands and does her best not to let frustrated tears leak down her cheeks. Patty hands her a tissue, which she refuses at first and then uses to noisily blow her nose. Moments later, Erin is swimming in a hoody a few sizes larger than usual fare, and Abby waves away her thanks.

“It’s my laundry day sweatshirt,” Abby says, flapping her hand and taking a seat to Erin’s left. Patty flanks Erin’s right, and she feels much better for the company.

Erin nestles her nose in the fabric and enjoys the tactile pleasure of the ratty fabric and the warmth of her trapped body heat. “What if I never get this working?”

“I think you mean we.” Patty cocks an eyebrow.

“Right,” Abby adds. “What if we never get this thing working?”

Erin laughs wetly. “Sorry. I don’t usually like to cry--”

“Not since you were nine, and your parents sent you to the shrink anyway.”

Erin nods at Abby’s accurate assessment. She learned early on that crying didn’t solve any problems, and it didn’t change anything that mattered. The behavior is a weakness, and she tries so hard to keep people from seeing hers. As much as she hates to admit so, she’s weak in all sorts of ways, and crying is only the tip of the iceberg.

“What’s the problem right now?”

“I wouldn’t touch that,” she warns Patty, who immediately retracts her finger from the prototype’s blinking front light. “I’m not saying it might explode, but it may sizzle a little.”

“Oh, shit.” Patty slips her hands under her thighs to show she’s learned her lesson.

“I don’t actually know what’s wrong. I don’t know the science behind this, if there is any. I’m just following directions, but this is like putting something from IKEA together.” Erin gestures to the blueprints, the parts, and the prototype. “I think I have it right, and then something catches on fire, or shocks me, or disappears into thin air.”

“I think you need a break.” Abby guides her from the table to one of the couches in the lab. All their furniture was found on the side of the road or purchased for next to nothing from garage sales, and Erin worries from time to time that she’s sitting in the exact spot an animal peed or a person had sex. She’d placed plastic covers on the couches, but Abby’d removed them and teased her for her hygiene standards. She hates sitting on them now but doesn’t want to Abby to tease her for resisting.

“And I’ve been thinking,” she rambles on, “that it’s a little weird, isn’t it, that all of the sudden, she’s manifesting for me? I’ve lived in this apartment for two years now--and nothing. What if this doesn’t last? What if she disappears before--”

Patty rubs her back. “Easy there, baby.”

“I wouldn’t worry. She’s been getting stronger, hasn’t she? That’s like the sort of evidence that contradicts that she’ll disappear any time soon.”

Erin nods and wipes Abby’s hoody sleeve along her cheeks. “I’m such a mess.”

“To quote your favorite Disney movie, people do crazy things when they’re in love.” Abby sings the last three words and tousles her hair. “Now, enough moping around. You’re a scientist, woman. Act like it!”

She straightens up, snuffles, and nods firmly. “I’m going to bring the prototype home tonight. Maybe she’ll have some advice on how to make it work.”

“She’ll just moan at the changes I made again,” Abby grouses. “They were good ideas.”

“We’ll make another one later, with upgrades. First, we need this one to at the very least work.”

Patty tugs Abby’s collar. There’s a mess of materials on the floor with another set of waiting blueprints. With an increasing number of ghosts, they’re all working as hard as they can to build, maintain, and upgrade the technology they need. A break now and again to spread comfort and cheer is highly acceptable--but there’s always work to be done.

“Let’s keep building that containment pen y’all’ve been talking about.”

Erin returns to work, heartened and determined. She lovingly places the prototype in her bag at the end of the day and hurries home. In her rush, she knocks shoulders with another pedestrian, who looks at her with large, frightened eyes. She stares, sure she’s met this woman somewhere before. Lucy swallows hard and staggers away. Shaking her head and writing the occurrence off, Erin jogs the final three blocks to her apartment.

0-0-0

Rather than work on the prototype, she spends the evening talking to Jillian, who has gotten much quicker with the Ouija board. They’ve tried a pencil and paper, but the energy required to lift and control the writing utensil is far greater than pushing the planchette. They decide to leave pencil writing for design planning or sketching. Sometimes, Jillian also summons the energy to whisper in her ear, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough of the soft richness of Jillian’s voice.

“Have you been a ghost long?”

“My whole afterlife.”

“Why did you reach out to me now?”

“Suddenly could.”

“There must be a reason as to why.” Erin ponders the idea, her mind already engaged by this fresh puzzle.

“You’re foxy.”

Erin’s cheeks flush a brilliant red. “I highly doubt my physical attributes contributed in anyway to your ability to manifest.”

A ghostly hand slides over her breasts and squeezes gently; Erin squalls with laughter and leans back. Jillian returns to the Ouija board.

“You’re pretty potent.”

0-0-0

As she heads downstairs the next morning, she spots a sign that she usually ignores. The building has been under renovations for some time now, and the sign hanging crookedly off the basement door warns all residents that construction is being performed below. This construction is an ongoing, long-term project of unknown purpose, so she normally moves past the basement door without a second glance.

Her curiosity piqued, she twists the knob and descends the stairs. At the base, she watches two men heaving chunks of old cement around. They seem busy, so she doesn’t want to interrupt--but one spots her and immediately halts his work.

“You a resident?”

“Yes.”

“Got a complaint? Tell the landlord.”

“I’m not down here to complain,” she assures him, lifting her hands. “Just checking things out.”

“It’s not safe.” He gestures to their heavy equipment, which is leaning against the wall caked with white dust.

“Did you happen to hit any sort of salt deposit?”

“Yeah. Weird for this area, but there you go. Why?”

“No reason. I won’t waste any more of your time.”

She scuttles upstairs, theories swirling between her ears. She texts Abby and says she’ll be in late before returning to her apartment. In the kitchen, she grabs a salt shaker and dump some salt into her palm. “Jillian, if you’re around, show me where.”

A glass slides across the counter, and if she squints, she can make out a hazy human outline. Taking aim, she launches the salt. It sails true, flying through where Jillian is standing. There’s an awful noise that follows, and Jillian’s presence is gone.


	8. Chapter 8

“Jillian?”

Erin steps forward and waves a hand through where Jillian just was. The air is room temperature, which suggests there’s nothing supernatural occurring. She dusts the rest of the salt from her palm at the sink and goes to the bedroom, in the hopes that Jillian wasn’t totally banished by her spur of the moment experiment. She stands alone in the darkness for a long, long time.

0-0-0

“You of all people!” Abby marches up to Erin’s apartment, her arms full of gear. She feels like they’re investigating Erin’s home for real--as if this is an unknown entity they are tracking down, rather than a goofy ghost. “Me, sure. I’ll run experiments anywhere, any time. But you?”

Erin hangs her head and lifts her shoulders to her ears. “I was just too excited to have a theory.”

“Even Patty knows the value of a controlled environment.”

Patty brings up the rear, a book of local urban legends under one arm. She’s there to provide assistance and support, but she really wants to finish reading this so she can write up her review. She makes this perfectly clear the entire trip over because the followers of her history blog are counting on her for quality content.

Erin knows this is just a cover. Patty cares just as deeply for Jillian as she does, and there is no way Patty wouldn’t be there during their search for clues. She’s grateful for her friends, both of whom dropped everything the minute she showed up at the firehouse and stood mutely in the doorway.

Patty snorts. “No such thing, Abby.”

Erin unlocks her door and allows them inside. “I know. This is all my fault. Can we maybe rub my nose in it some other time? Like after we figure out if she’s still here? And if not, where she went?”

“Let me just get set up,” Abby grouses. “She better still be here--”

“Remember when you used to want Erin to catch this, and I quote, ‘Damn ghost already.’” Patty tilts her head as Abby unloads her gear.

“Well, things change. New data are collected, and ideas are updated. Even to your precious history.”

“I know you didn’t just put down my thing.”

Abby smiles disingenuously. “My bad.”

Patty grumbles and sits at Erin’s table, which has been set up in the living room for the time being. The Ouija board sits atop, just in case Jillian shows up and wants to talk or reassert her presence in a very visible manner. Patty cracks her book, sniffs, and starts to read. Erin fills a glass with sparkling water and places it near Patty.

“Don’t I get a glass?”

“Results first,” Erin replies. She tugs on the hem of her shirt, which is showing very recent signs of wear and tear. She hears Abby’s dismissive agreement but instead focuses on the planchette, willing it to just move a little bit--anything to support that she didn’t mess everything up. Abby putters around the apartment, but the planchette never budges.

0-0-0

Erin doesn’t go to the firehouse for the next half a week. She barricades herself in her apartment with the prototype belt and tinkers away. She scorches her hair, singes her fingertips, and accrues and alarming number of bruises, but if she can just get this dang thing working, then she might be able to get Jillian back. Abby calls a few times, and Patty shows up at her door, but she pays them no heed.

She realizes eventually that there’s a salty coating on some of the materials used in the device and trashes them immediately. She also raids her kitchen and rids herself of her salt shaker and the small tub of salt she keeps to refill the shaker. She doesn’t care if the food she eats for the rest of her life is tasteless and dull--salt is dangerous.

On the fifth day, the landlord pounds on her door and demands she do something about the smell. The neighbors are complaining, and if she doesn’t act immediately, he’ll have her evicted. The thought makes her throat tighten; she can’t lose this apartment, as it’s her only link to Jillian. Without it, she’ll never see Jillian again, unless she breaks in. With the threat hanging overhead, she finally unlocks her door, takes the trash out, and sprays some air freshener. She sniffs herself and immediately takes a shower. She’s immensely disappointed when there’s no message in the mirror after.

Once she’s clean, she collapses into bed to rest. She’s neglected her needs for too long, she realizes. She wakes up crying later when she thinks she hears Jillian whispering her name.

0-0-0

Patty watches her keenly when she strides into the firehouse. She smiles and waves, determined to at least appear chipper and ready to work. She probably isn’t very convincing, but she has to try.

“You feeling okay?” Patty reaches for her, but she sidesteps the attempt at comfort.

“I’m great. Ready to hunt some ghosts. We have any clients?”

“Hard to say with the way Kevin takes messages. There’s either a ghost at a high school, or the Higher Learning Post wants an interview.”

“The HLP never does interviews with people who aren’t associated with prestigious schools,” Erin replies, rubbing her hands together. “So, that means we’re in business.”

“Abby and I were talking. We think you should sit this one out.”

“No, no. I’m cool. I’m fine. I’m--fabulous, even.” Erin presses her palms flat against her pleated skirt to keep them from trembling. “Totally ready to fight some teenage ghosts.”

“I don’t think the ghosts are teenagers.”

Abby appears, already dressed in her jumpsuit. “Oh, were they held back a few years? No shame in that.”

Erin smiles. “I’ll get the Ecto.”

0-0-0

Erin falls asleep at the firehouse, bent over an article detailing the digestive tract of voles and the impact of specific chemicals used to treat vegetation. Patty manages to carry her piggyback style to Patty’s apartment. Her roommate barely bats an eye when Patty dumps her on the couch and tosses a blanket on her legs.

She wakes in the morning, incredibly disoriented, and finds Patty sitting by her feet. She mutters a quick thank you for not letting her sleep facedown on a table and makes her excuses as quickly as possible. The roommate receives an apology, which he shrugs off as he sips his coffee and watches the morning news. She promises that she’s never going to avail herself on her friends’ kindness again, at least not without asking.

Once home, she ditches her clothing and pads to the bathroom. A warm shower makes her feel human again, although she shivers when she enters her bedroom. Before she dresses, she checks the window to make sure it hadn’t been left open. She tugs on a pair of unflattering underwear, yoga pants, and a loose hoody; when that’s not sufficient to stave off the chill, she clambers into bed and pulls blankets up around her.

The mattress beside her depresses.

Disbelieving, Erin sits up and stares at the woman perching on the edge of her bed. She looks almost real, from the coif of blonde hair to the sparkling flash of white teeth. She reaches out and traces her fingers along the woman’s arm, which doesn’t give way under her fingers. The woman wears her prototype belt, a weird conglomeration of clothing, and a wide, beaming smile.

“Maybe stop with the salt throwing.”

“Jillian?” Erin feels like she can’t breathe. She wonders if this is a dream or a desire-driven hallucination. Her prototype shouldn’t be functional. She hadn’t finished it, and she doesn’t think she was even close.

“I prefer Holtzmann,” she says and then winks. “Holtzy if you’re nasty.”


	9. Chapter 9

“You’re real.” 

Erin yelps as Holtzmann pinches her.

“Just saving you the trouble of asking me to. You’re not dreaming.”

Scooting ever closer, Erin doesn’t bother with words. She runs her hands everywhere she can reach: the sloping curve of Holtzmann’s shoulders, the flat of her stomach, the firm planes of her thighs. There is so much to touch, and Erin can’t get enough. She wants to plot this out like an equation and work through every angle, as if there is an answer to the beautiful enigma watching her with dimpled cheeks and sparkling eyes.

She bumps the belt accidentally, and Holtzmann wavers.

“Careful.”

“Sorry.” Erin backs off, but Holtzmann grabs her hands.

“It’s been awhile.” Holtzmann closes her eyes. “Since I’ve gotten to feel this.”

“I thought you were gone.”

“I was, for a few days. Came back, though.”

“Why didn’t you say something? Let me know? I…” Erin chokes on her words. The painful memories of the time she lost buried in herself surface, and her cheeks redden with the effort it takes to avoid making a hysterical scene.

“I was weak. You threw me out a window. Took a lotta energy to climb back up.”

“Oh, shoot.” Erin cups Holtzmann’s cheeks and revels at the contact. Holtz is here, in her room, and they’re in close contact.

“Exactamundo.”

“But--”

“Don’t worry about the details. Details are for dudes.” Holtzmann invades her space, driving her back against the sheets and crawling over her. “I got this baby up and running, that’s all that matters.”

Generally speaking, Erin dislikes small spaces and feeling trapped. However, confined between Holtz’s legs, she feels comfortable and more than a little aroused. Heart thumping, she gazes up at her captor. “What was I doing wrong?”

“Details.”

“And details are for dudes.” Erin slides her hand behind Holtz’s neck and pulls Holtz down for a kiss. Despite being more corporeal now, Holtz is still pleasantly cold, and their kissing still leaves Erin weak. She’s glad she’s lying down for their first body-to-body contact.

“You catch on quick.”

“I’m a scientist.”

“Sexy.” Holtz kisses her again and delves past her lips. She submits willingly as the events of the recent weeks come crashing down around her. When she sniffles, Holtz pulls back and wipes the few, dribbling tears from her cheeks.

“It’s a lot,” she ekes out. “All of this. Losing you. Finding you. I threw out all my salt.”

“Why did you throw it at me any way?”

“They never found your body--your original body. I thought maybe it got trapped in the new foundation when they rebuilt, and they were doing construction downstairs. The equipment showed evidence of salt deposits, so I hypothesized there was a correlation between your recent surge in power and the breakup of the deposits. If salt influences supernatural powers, then there would be a reaction when you came into contact with salt.”

Holtz sits back and fiddles with the chain necklace around her neck. Erin watches the circular symbol spin back and forth. “I could build a device that capitalizes on sodium chloride to--”

While Holtz mutters about possibilities, Erin soaks in the moment. This is so much different than talking through a Ouija board, yet so incredibly the same. They shift seamlessly from sensual flirting to scientific speculation without losing a breath, and she’s horribly, wonderfully in love with her impossibility. She lets Holtz exhaust the train of thought and then clears her throat.

“Holtzy.”

This draws Holtz’s immediate attention, and a coy smirk curls on her lips. “You’re nasty, huh?”

“I think I want to be,” Erin replies quietly. 

When Holtz slides back over her, she tangles a hand in Holtz’s wild hair. Despite her expressed desire, she wants this evening to be soft and sweet, and thankfully, Holtzmann tacitly understands. Holtzmann cradles her and kisses her neck.

“Whatever’s clever,” Holtz whispers against the juncture of Erin’s neck and shoulder. “If you wanna stop--”

“I don’t.”

“If you do,” Holtz presses on, “just holler. Well, holler in a bad way.”

Erin tugs on her hair at the thought of what’s to come. Holtz grips the edge of her night shirt and tugs; just before the garment slips over her breasts, the Materialization Belt sputters and dies. Holtzmann flickers, frowns, and fades. The belt plops onto the comforter, and Erin scrambles to pick it up. Fearing the worst, she calls out for Holtzmann.

A muffled voice reaches her ear: “Practice.”

0-0-0

She takes this advice to mean she’s to figure out what went wrong with the belt and fix the problem. Practicing, after all, is just refusing to let defeat keep her down. That and hopefully progressing, she muses as she zaps herself yet again with a charge of electricity. She’s done everything possible to ground herself and the belt, but the device just seems to be more than she can handle.

Holtzmann fixed it before, so she wonders why Holtzmann can’t fix it again. With that in mind, she leaves the belt behind every time she goes into work. Abby and Patty still watch her with concerned gazes, but her mood is honestly upbeat. She doesn’t want to tell them what happened, not until the belt works for longer than half an hour. She can just imagine their faces if she shows up to work one morning with Holtzmann swaggering in behind her.

0-0-0

Erin slams backward as the ecto-projectile goo coats the front of her jumpsuit and globs in her hair. The force with which the ghost vomited on her is intense, and she’s glad there was nothing sharp or dangerous just behind her. Her back is sore, but she thinks she’s no worse for wear. A proton blast snags the seventeenth century minuteman and drags him backward, giving Erin a chance to mop the ectoplasm from her face as best she can.

Patty yells for her help, and she pushes her discomfort away. They always seem so shorthanded on missions--even if everyone is doing what she’s supposed to, there’s always more to do: blasts to shoot, traps to set, crowds to clear, cover to provide… The whole gig is exhausting. She aims her blaster and helps stabilize his wildly swinging arms. Abby throws a trap down, and Erin and Patty muscle the ghost into position.

As soon as the trap snaps shut, Erin flops down and sucks in a deep breath. A stab of sharp pain pierces through her, and she quickly unbuttons the uniform, tugs up her blouse, and stares at an already colorful bruise spreading across her torso.

“Damn, Gilbert,” Abby laughs. “That goo does seem attracted to you in the worst ways. I think you just have a thing for ghosts--”

“Abby,” Patty hisses.

Abby frowns and kicks the ground. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Erin replies. She no longer suffers from the heavily weighted negative emotions the mere thought of Holtzmann once gave her. Her ghost is safe and sound--and likely waiting for her to come home.

“Are you sure?” Patty offers her a hand, which she gratefully accepts, and hoists her back to her feet. “It hasn’t been that long--”

“I still have faith.”

Abby and Patty exchange dubious looks. Abby links her arm with Erin’s. “We just don’t want you to--well, go off the deep end. If it doesn’t work out.”

“I’m not going off the deep end.”

“You sorta already did.” Abby pulls a face that intimates both disbelief and pity. “Remember locking yourself in your apartment for a week?”

Erin flushes. “That was--I was--”

“Off the deep end,” Patty supplies.

“I won’t be again. I promise.”

Abby slaps her ass and returns to the Ecto-1. “You better not. We need all the help we can get.”

Erin pauses and imagines what Holtzmann would look like in a tan and orange jumpsuit.


	10. Chapter 10

She bursts through the door, more than eager to find out if her current redesign of the prototype will actually function. While staring out the window of the firehouse and mindlessly watching a pair of pigeons fight over half a hot dog bun, she’d been struck by an idea. Of course, she’s no engineer, so she’ll definitely default to Holtz’s expertise, but she’s excited to share this with her girlfriend, who’s been stuck as a form-less ghost for nearly two weeks.

They’ve fallen into a comfortable routine in the evenings: Erin comes home from work and showers--Holtzmann may or may not be watching--and then settles down in the living room with the prototype belt and Ouija board set up on the table. Once used for meals, Erin’s covered the space with papers, doodles, books, and tools. She created a new planchette out of super light, slick material, so that Holtzmann doesn’t have to work as hard to spell out her messages. They work together until Erin is too tired to continue. At that point, they retire to bed, and just before Erin falls asleep, Holtzmann murmurs something in her ear to flavor her dreams.

This evening is only slightly different. Erin drops her sketch on the table and calls for Holtzmann, who tickles the back of her neck in response. The move draws a pleased hum from Erin, who then shakes her head and reminds herself to stay focused.

“Look at the idea, Holtz.”

Silence follows until the planchette glides around to spell out Holtz’s response. “Considered friction?”

“I know that having a more compact design could potentially crowd the parts, cause overheating, or instigate a dozen other problems, but it would save on energy consumption--which is the biggest problem we’re facing right now. We can work through the little stuff, can’t we?”

The planchette settles over YES.

0-0-0

Erin marches into the firehouse, a confident grin in place. Patty, who leans against Kevin’s desk in a vain attempt to teach him how to answer their emails in a professional manner, glances at her and smiles. She and Abby have grown accustomed to Erin’s consistently high spirits, although Patty still draws her aside every few days to check in.

“Morning,” she calls. “Abby in yet?”

“Upstairs already.”

Erin lingers by the door. “Could you bring her down here?”

Patty seems to be analyzing her, trying to figure out what her odd behavior is about. Still, upbeat is better than off the deep end, so she heads up to the second floor to round up their coworker. Erin smiles at Kevin, not entirely immune to his dashing good looks and generally pleasant nature. He nods and grins.

“Something special?”

“Very,” she replies, twisting her hands behind her back to hide her anxiety. She’s hidden this from everyone for quite some time now, and she knows that there will be an element of shock involved when she reveals that she’s brought her ghost to work. Patty and Abby liked Holtzmann and mourned in their own ways when Holtzmann disappeared--to find out that Holtz is back in action, and has been for some time, could lead to some hurt feelings and harsh words.

“What’s this about?” Abby slides down the pole, followed by Patty who makes the exercise look effortless, especially in comparison to the jilting scoot of Abby’s pace. “I was in the middle of editing a new video for our channel.”

Erin sucks in a deep breath. “You can come in now.”

The door opens behind her, and Abby and Patty gasp. Kevin, who has no idea what’s going on, welcomes their guest to the Ghostbusters and asks if she needs any ghosts busted. Holtz snaps finger guns in his direction.

“No, big fella. I’d rather not go through that again.”

Abby moves first, tottering forward and grabbing Holtz’s arm. “You’re so solid.”

“Uh-why thank you,” Holtz responds with a lusty wink and a grin.

“How?” Patty gapes, still frozen in place. Her gaze drops to the flickering lights on the belt, which Holtz announces as the Life Belt 2.0--because it does so much more than materialize her into a corporal form.

Reality doesn’t take long to set in, and Abby stomps to Erin’s side. She shakes Erin’s shoulders and glares. “You knew about this!”

“I’m sorry, Abby. I honestly didn’t think it was going to take this long--”

“I want to trust you--but it seems like every time I turn around, you don’t trust me.” Abby searches her gaze. “We could have helped you, and instead, you locked us out.”

Holtz inserts herself between Abby and Erin and lifts her hands. “That was me.”

“What?” Erin and Abby say simultaneously.

Abby regains her verbal footing first. “What do you mean?”

“I wanted my lady friend to myself.” Holtz slides a hand around Erin’s waist and pulls her flush. She continues in a much quieter, shaking tone, “And… I didn’t want to get my hopes up. You go so long alone, you don’t want to think you’ll get it back again.”

Glowering, Abby steps back. “Erin, I hope you don’t let your little friend keep getting in the way of business. Bros-ts before ghosts.”

“That’s why I brought her here, actually. I think she can help.”

Kevin raises his hand and waits for Erin to call on him. “I don’t understand.”

Holtz turns to him and extends her hand. He reaches to shake it, but she jerks it quickly away and pretends to slick back her hair. “The name’s Holtzmann. I’m kind of an expert on ghosts.”

“So, why do you need our help?”

Erin closes her eyes and counts backwards from five. “Kevin, she’s going to share her expertise with us. She’s an inventor.”

“Oh.” He settles back in his chair, clearly still puzzled.

Patty notices the tense looks Erin and Abby share and gestures for Holtz to follow her. “I guess I’ll give you the grand tour, so Erin and Abby can finish their chat.”

Erin tenses. “I--”

“I’ll be fine.” Holtz tips two fingers in her direction and saunters after Patty to the second floor.

“So…” Erin shifts uncomfortably when she shifts her attention back to Abby. “I get that you’re probably mad--”

“I’m not mad. I’m just--”

“Please don’t say disappointed.”

“--sad.”

“Oh, that’s worse.” Erin hangs her head. 

“I really thought that we were getting closer to having what we used to have, y’know? Before you abandoned our baby.”

“The book--”

“--isn’t the point.” Abby rubs the back of her neck. “We’ve always worked well together, Erin. You’re a great coworker, and you do what you’re supposed to without being asked. I just wish we were better friends, like the old days.”

Erin’s throat tightens. “You’re my best friend, Abby.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it.”

Thinking over her behavior lately, Erin nods. “I haven’t been a very good friend at all. You’ve been so supportive, and I… I got distracted.”

“Part of being a scientist, I guess.”

“I’d rather be your friend than a physicist.” Erin scuffs her foot and regrets, not for the first time, wearing unnecessary heels. “I’d like to try and be better, if you’ll let me.”

Abby relents and socks Erin’s shoulder. “Three strikes and you’re out, though.”

“Point taken.” Erin relaxes. “As long as you don’t mind an occasional foul ball.”

“You know I don’t do extended sports metaphors.”


	11. Chapter 11

When Erin and Abby head upstairs, they find Patty sitting in a chair, her nose buried in a book. Patty points silently down the hall, hiding a smile. From where they stand, they can hear faint strains of Paradise City drifting through the air, and when they enter the main laboratory, they spot Holtzmann dancing with her arms above her head and her eyes closed.

Erin is transfixed momentarily, her eyes locked on Holtz’s hips. Although they’ve spent a good deal of time in physical contact working the kinks out of the belt, they haven’t attempted intimacy yet for fear of the belt copping out yet again--Erin isn’t willing to live with the sexual frustration. Touching herself just isn’t enough anymore, not since she got a taste of Holtz’s cold, firm fingers and demanding kisses.

Seeing Holtz thrust her hips and twirl around sucks the moisture from her mouth and leaves her gaping. Abby elbows her hard in the side and mutters for her to just get a room already. If they ‘hire’ Holtz on, Abby concludes, then she’s a walking sexual harassment suit. The idea that Holtz would have a problem with getting jumped at this moment makes Erin laugh, but she drags her eyes away.

Holtz ends the song by jumping and landing with her feet spread and her fist pumped into the air. She opens her eyes and grins at her audience. “I’ll be here all week.”

“Will you?” Abby raises her eyebrows. “Can the belt make that happen?”

“We’re still finagling the energy source,” Erin explains, crossing the room and bending closer to the Life Belt. She blushes when she realizes how close she is to Holtz’s groin--and subsequently wonders about the logistics of said groin. Holtz is corporeal, but she’s never asked if the belt in anyway provides any physical sensation. Maybe Holtz can make her feel great, but the reverse is untrue. She frowns at the thought.

Holtz clears her throat. “My eyes are up here.”

Erin sputters. “I was just--”

“This is a PDA-free work environment,” Abby adds. “Hands where I can see them.”

Holtz lifts her hands and looks expectantly at Erin. Erin emits a series of confused and defiant groans before doing the same. Abby nods, and they lower their limbs.

“Cool place you got here.” Holtz peers at the blueprints and reaches into her pocket for a pen. The back of the pen is covered in teeth marks, the source of which becomes apparent as Holtz chews briefly before adding her own marks on one of the blueprints. “What do you need most?”

Erin almost spits out that she needs to see Holtz in private as soon as possible, but thankfully, Abby responds first: “We’re working primarily on a display unit. We don’t make a ton of money, even though the city pays for most of our gear. I had the idea to create a sort of ghost museum on the first floor.”

“Patty knows all the history,” Erin adds. “So, it’ll be educational.”

“And,” Abby continues, “we’ll make sure to only display ghosts that aren’t sentient. In case you were worried.”

Holtz listens carefully in that way that sometimes makes Erin distinctly uncomfortable. She stares and makes her target feel like there’s nothing else going on, and Erin has never had anyone pay so much attention to anything she says. Even if Holtz doesn’t give a darn about something, she makes her friends feel valuable.

“Cool beans.” She spins on her heel. “But you won’t get it working with those plans.”

“Excuse me.” Abby storms over to her. “I happen to be the premier scientist in the field of spectral technology--”

“Abby, you just made that up.”

Holtz laughs and tucks her hands in her pockets. “You’re lucky I died before I could fight you for the title.”

Abby sniffs. “I didn’t realize you’d come with so much charm.”

Holtz shifts her hips rhythmically, dancing even though the music has long ended, and crosses the room. “Gotta work what your momma gave you.”

Watching them bicker, Erin moves to her whiteboard, which has been ignored for over a month. She forewent her private studies in favor of working on the belt, but it’s probably time to resume her latest recent project. She was going to submit the article to a scholarly journal by the end of the calendar year, but now, she’ll likely have to aim for the first deadline of the new year. Someone has accidentally bumped against and smudged several figures, so she patiently fills them back in as she reviews her work.

“So, what’s all this?” Holtz sidles up and perches her head on Erin’s shoulder.

“I was investigating the mathematical likelihood of creating an accessible portal to the spirit plane.”

“Wanna come back to my place sometime, huh?”

“Not exactly.” Erin caps her marker. “This is a level beyond where you exist. See, I’ve determined that there are least three layers to reality--the one physical beings live in, the veil between--where you’re from--and the spirit plane, as I’m calling it. That last level is where most people go when they die. Ghosts as we know them are beings who for one reason or another end up in that middle layer, caught between one plane and the other.”

“Wouldn’t I be able to access that other plane just as easily as I do this one?”

Erin shrugs. “I don’t know. This is all just theoretical. Of course, this is somewhat reliant on common religious texts that suggest the existence of an afterlife. That third plane may very well not exist at all, which leaves the gaping question of what happens to those spirits who aren’t ghosts.”

“Got me.”

“Do you remember dying?”

Holtz withdraws suddenly and heads to examine a wall of completed technology. Recognizing this as a clear message that this is not a topic to be discussed, Erin sighs and returns to her figures. People, even ghosts, are impossible to figure out. Then again, she thought Holtzmann was impossible, too. Maybe she’ll finally get a grasp on proper social interaction, just like she finally got a grasp on Holtz.

0-0-0

Gathering around the table, Erin leans against her elbows and waits patiently for Abby to pass out paper plates. She’s not very hungry, but Patty insists that everyone eats and keeps their strength up. She gets yelled at the most, and there are mornings when she looks in the mirror and wonders if she’s too gaunt. She tries telling them she eats when she’s hungry, but they never quite seem to believe her. To avoid making a scene, she eats whatever they feed her, even if the amount makes her feel ill.

“I miss food.” Holtz toys with a straw, bending one end and gnawing on the other. She stares at the pizza and licks her lips. When Abby offers her a plate, she shrugs and accepts.

“Can you taste? Or digest?” Erin leans forward, fascinated as Holtz takes her first bite.

“Affirmative. Uncertain.”

Erin nibbles her lower lips. “Can you feel?”

Holtz chews and swallows, a content grin spreading over her lips. “Not as intensely as before, but yeah. Taste is dull, too.”

“You got a heart beat?” Patty hasn’t touched her food, too intent is she on the show Holtz is putting on.

“Slow but present.”

Abby works this out slowly. “Your body’s processes are likely delayed. The low heart rate could account for your depressed temperature. I mean, it’s a miracle you have any functionality at all--I would have thought the belt would give you access to this world, not resuscitate you from the dead.”

Holtz raises her eyebrows and dips her straw in Erin’s Coca-Cola. She slurps and sighs loudly. Erin doesn’t have the heart to knock her away or pour her a separate beverage.

“We’re going to have to talk about ethics,” Abby concludes. “And soon.”

Erin frowns. “That’s exactly why I’m in a theoretical field, Abby. I come up with the ideas, and you decide whether the world is ready.”

“Seriously. If we replicate this technology, nobody would have to stay dead. We’d be rich. But it always comes down to Jeff Goldblum. Just because we can doesn’t necessarily mean we should.”

“It’s all chill, babes. I’m one of a kind.”

“That’s true,” Erin puts in. “We’ve never come across another sentient, benevolent spirit before. This might be a more pressing question if we ever find another, but for now, I think we’re safe.”

“And how.” Holtz winks at her, and Erin can’t wait to go home.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw

They sit on the edge of the bed, and Erin feels extremely nervous. The belt is plugged in and charging, so they have very limited options in terms of movement--which means that for the time being, no matter how much she wants Holtz to throw her back on the bed and ravage her, she has to make pedestrian conversation.

“What did you think of the firehouse?”

“Aces.” Holtz stares at her, and she squirms. This might just be a ghost thing, but Holtz doesn’t blink nearly enough, and the effect of this close examination is that Erin already feels heat building in her lower belly.

“Yeah, we’re pretty proud of it,” she says, voice cracking. She clears her throat and fiddles with the comforter. “It’s pretty much a dream come true, actually. If you told me as a kid that I’d be working as a paranormal researcher--one who’s actually respected and not ridiculed by everyone--I wouldn’t have believed it.”

“Rough childhood?”

Erin hesitates. She hasn’t talked to anyone except Abby what happened. Even more than twenty years later, she still feels a visceral reaction to the most painful and present memories--the ones that keep her up until the wee hours of the morning when depression-induced insomnia keeps her brain reeling through all her mistakes.

Holtz holds her hand and, in a low, uncertain tone, says, “It hurt. Dying hurt. So incredibly badly. I wasn’t ready. There was still too much to do--to build--too many people to help. The fire burned, but the actual dying was--agony. I knew nobody was going to reach me in time. Those last few minutes.”

Erin sits in silence, unsure of how to respond. Holtz no longer looks at her, and she misses the intensity. She swallows past the lump in her throat and scoots closer. “Thank you for sharing.”

“The time after was better,” Holtz continues. She looks once more at Erin, but the tentative searching of her gaze is nothing like before. “I wasn’t hurting. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t anything.”

Hoping that this isn’t an insensitive question, Erin asks, “Do you know why you became a ghost rather than passing on?”

“Unfinished business.”

“So, the Casper movie was right all along?”

“I don’t know.” Holtz manages a smile, and the tension in the room dissipates. “All I know is I’m glad I didn’t. Wouldn’t have met you.”

“I’m not glad you’re dead, but I’m glad we met.” The belt beeps, signaling that its charging cycle is complete. Holtz lets Erin do the honors of disconnecting the cord and follows Erin to the head of the bed. “Do you think you’ll keep aging now that the belt is working?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

Erin laughs as Holtz tickles her neck, signaling the end of that particular conversation. “Okay, message received.”

With Holtz lying beside her, Erin isn’t too worried about anything. Of course, her mind still cartwheels through her thoughts and doubts, but she’s at ease. Being cuddled against a ghost’s chest is right where she’s supposed to be, especially when that ghost has wandering hands that have slipped beneath her night shirt.

She hums her approval and slides onto her back; Holtz slips the night shirt up and off, leaving Erin topless in the moonlight that trickles in through the broken blinds. Chewing on her lower lip, Holtz examines Erin closely, and Erin resists the urge to pull the sheets over her body. Being naked in front of someone else has always been nerve wracking, and being on display in front of Holtzmann is no different.

If this were a movie, Holtzmann would say some cheesy line about how beautiful she is. She’s seen enough of them--and read enough shitty romance novels--to know what to expect. But Holtz doesn’t say anything, just places her fingers against Erin’s collarbone and slowly runs her hand down Erin’s torso. The touch is featherlight and gentle, and Erin feels precious.

Holtz bends and kisses the tip of each nipple, and Erin arches up. Moving slowly, Holtz peppers her chest with pecks, until she can take it no more and drags Holtz up to her mouth. She takes Holtz’s lower lip between her teeth and tugs, a little more roughly than she initially intended--but the effect is just as she wants; Holtz abandons her careful and gentle approach and instead pounces on her, invading her mouth, suckling on the spot just below her earlobe, and rolling her nipples between thick, eager fingers.

The sensations are overwhelming. Erin pants and gasps and groans in turn as Holtz treats her like some sort of invention in need of fine tuning--a tweak there, a twist here, and voila. She’s aware that Holtz thinks all things can be improved in some way, and with how good this feels, she can’t imagine how they’ll ever upgrade their intimacy in the future. There is nothing better than this, she thinks as Holtz’s teeth graze against her pebbling nipple.

“Oh, Holtzy,” she moans, fisting her hands in the sheets. She lifts her hips to better allow Holtz to drag her underwear off, uncaring that she truly is naked now. She’s never been so comfortable with another human being before.

Holtz nips at her inner thighs, and she stretches her legs wider. A cold finger swipes along her core, flicks against her clit, and teasingly circles her entrance. She stares down her body at Holtz, who stares right back. She grits out a “Please, Holtz,” to which Holtz nods.

She spends the next forty minutes building up a sweat, hollering so loudly she’s sure half the city knows what she’s up to, and then crying into her pillow as her body shudders and shivers in the aftermath. Holtz curls up beside her and traces doodles on the skin of her back.

“Do you--” she eventually starts.

“Not a whole lot of feeling,” Holtz replies immediately, grinning to show her acceptance of the situation.

“But--”

“Tonight was about you.”

Erin relaxes into Holtz’s embrace and considers the statement. It seems impossible--nothing is just about her; she’d even been born within three days of her father’s birthday, so she never had a birthday party she didn’t share. That Holtz is so willing to prize her causes tears to well up again. She brushes them away before Holtz sees and settles in to sleep.

0-0-0

Holtzmann is gone in the morning, and Erin immediately panics. She shimmies back into her night shirt, a thigh-length white garment with ‘I HEART SCIENCE’ printed on the front, and rushes into the main apartment, where she finds Holtz in the kitchen. Pots and dishes are scattered everywhere, and Holtz beams when she enters.

“Sorry. Was gonna be brekkies in bed.”

“Better this way,” Erin replies with a yawn. “I don’t like crumbs in my sheets.”

As she finishes plating Erin’s breakfast, Holtz puts a few extra bounces in her steps. Erin smiles, dodges past Holtz’s enthusiasm, and pours herself a glass of water. She’s always lived alone, even through college, mostly because she thought she’d struggle dealing with a roommate always in her space. The contrary appears to be true because she has no problem with the mess Holtz has generated and truly enjoys the company.

“None for you?”

“Still digesting that pizza. The gift that keeps on giving.”

Erin nods. “We should really keep track of your vitals and intake and so on.”

“Details,” Holtz replies, spinning through the kitchen to serve Erin at the table in the living room. Erin pads after, eager to try whatever it is that Holtz cooked up for her.

She sits and, under Holtz’s expectant gaze, takes her first bite. The flavor is potent and delicious, and she moans with almost as much pleasure as the night before. “I had no idea--”

“This girl can cook.”


	13. Chapter 13

“The technology is close,” Abby states, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed. The equipment before her ought to work but doesn’t, which is a problem she’s dealt with nearly every day for most of her life. She has dreams that never quite come true and expectations that reality never seems to meet. “I don’t know what’s going wrong.”

Holtz spins in her chair with her feet raised and her hands gripping the edge to keep from falling off. She lets the chair wobble to a halt and then appraises Abby’s upset expression. “Has it blown up in your face yet?”

“No.”

“Not close enough, then.” She resumes spinning while Abby gives Erin a flabbergasted look.

Erin fights away her grin and tries to focus on her equations. Her personal project has been sidelined yet again, and she’s devoting her time now to helping with the museum--or the ghost zoo as Holtzmann has been calling it. Holtzmann is also supposed to be helping, but getting the ghost to focus is nigh impossible. Holtzmann starts working on the enclosures but five minutes later is tinkering with a snapping machine that will function like a bear trap.

The inventions are all useful, in odd and interesting sorts of ways, but they’re never exactly what Abby wants Holtzmann to work on. Erin gave up on trying to make Holtzmann pursue a given topic when she realized she’d have better luck herding butterflies through a hurricane. Abby will understand eventually, she hopes, otherwise she predicts a series of petulant arguments because her best friends devolve into children around each other. Usually, this just leads to a few harmless gags, but she happens to know that both of them have access to highly flammable materials.

“Guys,” Patty calls from the door. “There’s some serious shit going down at the Office Depot.”

Erin glances at Holtzmann. They’ve never discussed what would happen if a call came in while Holtzmann is around, but Erin doesn’t want her coming with. There are too many risks--what if, for example, she got caught in a misfired proton blast? What if the belt malfunctioned, and they had no time or tools to fix it? She gnaws on her upper lip and hopes someone else will make this decision for her. Unfortunately, both Patty and Abby seem content to let her deal with this particular issue. They suit up silently while she and Holtz stare at one another.

Holtz cocks an eyebrow. “Am I not allowed off the island, boss?”

That Holtz appears to understand makes the decision that much easier. She nods slowly, hating that she’s the one making the call. “The belt isn’t ready, yet.”

“I’ll have something new cooked up by the time you guys get back,” Holtz promises.

Erin isn’t sure if she detects sadness in Holtz’s tone or if she’s just projecting. Abby warns her not to burn the building down, and Holtz jokes that she’s been there, done that. For all the teasing, Erin is truly worried about leaving Holtzmann behind. Kevin will be around, but he cannot be counted on for help if something goes wrong in their absence. He tries his best, but that belt is high tech.

“Try not to worry too much,” Patty whispers as they head down to the Ecto-1. “Your girl’s got this under control.”

“But what if--”

“That’s the problem with you scientists. You can’t just let it be, you know that? Always gotta know why and how and where.”

“And what,” Abby puts in helpfully. She loads their proton packs and then slides into the passenger seat. “It’s a curse, I know.”

“Y’all need to stop and chill.”

Erin sidles into the backseat, silent as Patty starts the car and pulls out into traffic. While Abby tells Patty to drive faster, Erin gazes out the window and thinks about where her life has taken her. She wonders what will come next, and if she’ll be ready. The future has always been somewhat anxiety-laden for her, from wondering if she’ll ever be accepted as a child to biting her nails about tenure as an adult. She’s a planner at heart, and the idea that life is, by its very nature, full of uncertainties makes her stomach churn unpleasantly.

That’s one of the main reasons she chases ghosts, she realizes. She wants to take the unknowable and know it. She wants to categorize, label, and sort the strange entities that haunt this reality so that they’re no longer as frightening to little girls who don’t know why their dead neighbor watches them sleep.

If she could just understand Holtz, that dang belt, and what it all means, then she can enjoy the new romance in her life without reservation.

0-0-0

Erin stands in the shower and lets the water do most of the work. Someday, she’ll learn to step out of the way when a ghost projectile vomits ectoplasm in her direction, but until then, she’s got to invest in better soap and shampoo. She doesn’t flinch when the door to the bathroom squeaks open; ever since the haunting began, she’s become accustomed to being barged in on. She doesn’t mind, as Holtz isn’t trying to be rude--she simply has other things on her mind.

“We gotta talk,” Holtz announces, taking a seat on the toilet.

“Right now?” She paws water from her eyes and squints through the glass of the shower door. “I’m kinda busy.”

“Mm.”

“What about?”

“You.”

Having done this way too many times with way too many psychologists over the years, Erin’s knee-jerk reaction is to say no. Instead, she takes a deep breath and reaches for the soap to try once more to get rid of the ectoplasm.

“Okay.”

“Ever since we did the do, you seem--weird.”

“Me? Weird?” Erin laughs long and loud but quiets as she realizes neither of them believe her disbelief.

“Lemme in your noggin.”

“I…” Erin returns the soap to the soap dish when she notices she’s been scrubbing the same patch of stomach repeatedly. The water rinses away the suds, and she flipflops between ending her shower and simply hiding under the spray for the rest of her life. Or at least until the hot water runs out. “I’m scared,” she settles on.

“I know I’m a ghost, but--”

“Not of you,” Erin interrupts. “For you. For me, too.”

Holtzmann leans back and kicks her legs out, pressing her toes against the opposite wall. “Gotta give me more.”

“You’re dead, Holtz.”

“Wha-at?”

Erin abruptly ends the shower and reaches for her towel. She peers at Holtz’s nonplussed face. “That doesn’t bother you? That we’re that different? That we’ll never get to do couple things, like--like go out dancing or take a vacation--or get married or have kids?”

“We can stay in dancing.” Holtz doesn’t bother to rebut the other points; she stands back to let Erin out of the shower and then shrugs. “You want to marry me?”

“I don’t know!” Erin tucks the towel around her body and stands with her hair dripping onto her shoulders. “I don’t know at all what I want, or what I can even have. And that’s--that’s not how I like my life.”

“Dating me’s pretty awful, huh?”

Erin gapes wordlessly, recognizing a very real hurt behind Holtz’s eyes, despite Holtz maintaining a wide grin. She stutters out a denial, but Holtz just shrugs again and meanders out of the bathroom.


	14. Chapter 14

Erin hurries after Holtzmann with the full knowledge that her inability to speak well off the cuff is endangering one of the few truly special parts of her life. She’d spoken in front of the big lecture hall from prepared notes and defended her dissertation from a Powerpoint--all because when things matter to her, her brain sputters to a halt and absolute garbage tumbles out of her mouth.

“Holtzmann…” She opens the bedroom door and spots Holtz sitting with her legs crossed atop the bed. Rather than make eye contact, Holtz is stripping wires. To what end, Erin isn’t sure, but she can’t even bring herself to care that there is now going to be plastic debris in her bed. “Please, I need to explain.”

Holtz chuckles but doesn’t look up. “Go for it, baby.”

This is better than being ignored, so Erin steps farther into the room. She links her hands in front of her stomach to keep from fidgeting. “You asked about my childhood before.”

“Yeah.” Holtz finally pays attention, her hands still going through the motions of wire stripping but her eyes on Erin’s face.

“I saw a ghost when I was eight, but my parents didn’t believe me. Every night, that ghost was at the foot of my bed, but rather than help me, my parents put me into therapy. I mean--they thought that was helping, but…” Erin rubs her fingers against each other, as her nervousness demands an outward fixation. “They said they did it because they loved me, but how could that be love? Until I met Abby, I didn’t trust anyone. Even with Abby, it took a long time for me to realize she wasn’t going to shove me in a locker or dump pig’s blood on me. Relationships are hard for me. Any kind, really.”

Setting the wires aside, Holtz pats the bedspread beside her. Erin takes a seat, and Holtz gestures for her to continue.

“I became a physicist because I like being able to understand the way things are. Math makes sense--there may be difficult problems, but given enough time, I can work it through. That’s how I like to approach the bigger things in my life, too. When something is unknown, I have to know it. Otherwise, I…”

“Off the deep end.”

Erin shakes her head. “I know that’s the joke at the firehouse, but it actually--”

“Oh. You never said--”

“They don’t mean any harm by it.” Erin struggles to smile. “But it just reminds me a lot of being forced into therapy. Being the crazy ghost girl.”

“Won’t do it again.” Lifting three fingers to her forehead, Holtz tosses a lazy salute. “Scout’s honor.”

“Thank you.”

“I gets it, by the way.”

“You do?”

Holtz gestures down her body. “Ex-reclusive hermit.”

“I really didn’t mean to hurt your feelings in the bathroom, but I know I did. I just have a hard time when I can’t plan everything--when I don’t know what’s coming next.”

Holtz slings an arm around Erin’s shoulder. “So, let’s plan.”

Erin stares at Holtzmann curiously. She hadn’t thought they could do such a thing, since there is so much uncertainty regarding the belt and their lives. “Really?”

“People accidentally die all the time. Believe me. I’m a ghost. I bet them and their loved ones still had plans for the future.”

Unable to stop herself, Erin laughs, and Holtz squeezes her shoulders. They settle back against the bed and take turns painting a picture of what they want from the future. Holtz, who for the past ten years didn’t think she had a future, has no definite plans--build some stuff, make sweet, sweet love to her lady, and preferably not pass on. Erin is amazed by the nonchalance. Her plans for the future include finding another position teaching in the next ten years, perhaps only part time so she can continue busting ghosts until she no longer feels physically able. Then, when she retires from ghost hunting, she can teach full time.

“I think I’d like to have a child,” Erin murmurs, tangling her fingers with Holtzmann’s, “but I’m afraid I’ll do to her what my parents did to me.”

“I think I’d be a rad dad.”

“Have you ever interacted with a baby?”

“Babysitting champion of Hell’s Kitchen, three years running.”

Erin stares at Holtzmann and wonders just how much she doesn’t know about the other woman. “You grew up in Manhattan?”

“Affirmative.”

“What were your parents like?” Erin quickly adds, “Would you want to see them again?”

“The parental units were a janitor and a teacher--always busy.” Holtzmann pulls her hand from Erin’s grip and picks at her fingernails. “They were good. But I don’t know. It’s been a while.”

“Are they still in Manhattan?”

“Moved before I finished high school. Gentrification’s a bummer.”

“Do you know where they are now?”

“How about you?” Holtzmann asks instead of answering. “Last time you saw yours?”

Deciding to let it slide, Erin replies, “About a year. We have monthly phone calls during which they pretend to be interested in what I’m doing. Ever since I got fired, though…”

“Need me to rough ‘em up?”

Erin rolls her eyes. “Holtz.”

“Only a little?”

That Holtzmann might someday meet her parents is something Erin hasn’t considered. She’s not sure how they’ll handle the news that their only child not only sees ghosts but is now dating one. She’s glad they’re generally in good health, or one might just have a heart attack after hearing the news. She could always lie, but they’d immediately look Jillian Holtzmann up online and discover the short obituary printed in the New York Times, just like she did.

“They want the best for me,” she eventually says. “Even if we have different ideas of what that is. I try not to fault them for that.”

Holtz jumps up and drags Erin with her. She pushes Erin’s shoulder forcefully and gestures for Erin to push back. “C’mon, Gilbert. Fight back.”

“What?”

Holtzmann raises her fists and dances from foot to foot, mimicking with no precision how boxers deftly step around the ring. “Gotta stand up for yourself.”

Erin shakes her head. “I’m not going to hit you.”

“Fine.” Holtz grabs the buckle keeping the belt in place. “I’ll go ghost, so you can’t hurt me.”

“No, don’t.” Erin grabs her hand. She knows the belt will still be there for Holtz to put back on, but her fear of the unknown constantly makes the contents of her stomach roil. If something goes wrong, then she might lose Holtz forever. “I don’t want to hit you, either way.”

“I like how you’re saying no. Keep it up, kid.”

Erin folds her arms over her chest. “I know how to say no.”

“Just not to good ol’ mom and dad?”

“I…”

“Pro tip: even if you love someone, you don’t gotta like ‘em.”

Erin turns away and stares at the picture frames sitting atop her dresser. “I wasn’t really allowed to say no as a kid. I didn’t want to go to therapy, but they sent me anyway. I didn’t want to attend private school, but they sent me to a Catholic school anyway.”

“Break free, little pupa.” Holtz steps around her and stands nose to nose.

Erin cups her cheeks and kisses her. She may not know where they’re going, but she vastly prefers Holtz’s company to anyone else’s. Although this comes with mild anxiety, she wants the freedom that Holtz embodies.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nsfw
> 
> end note also nsfw

Erin marks a few numbers down on her whiteboard and taps the marker against her chin while she thinks. Behind her, she can hear Patty and Holtzmann arguing about what the best location in New York City is for viewing the night sky. From what she can hear, Holtzmann is outgunned by Patty’s more recent knowledge of city developments, but that doesn’t stop the smaller woman from clinging to her position as long as possible.

Abby tuts under her breath and points to a corner of her board. “I think that’s a mistake.”

“Oh, nuts and bolts.” Erin furrows her brow and rubs the error out. “I can’t believe I missed that.”

“A little distracted?”

Flushing, Erin shrugs. “Not especially.”

“I’m happy for you. I know it probably didn’t seem that way at first, but I am. She makes you happy, and you need that.” Abby leans closer. “Between me and you, you sort of had a stick up your butt.”

“Abby.”

“I’m just telling truth.” Abby lifts a hand and lowers her head.

Erin bumps her hip against Abby’s and laughs.

0-0-0

“You seem nervous.” Holtzmann jams her hands in the oversized pockets of her oversized trench coat. She revealed the night before that one of her favorite parts of having a body again is being able to change her clothes. The outfit she died in and thus was dressed in as a ghost was getting old. She’s sent Erin to the thrift store a number of times now, and the resulting mash up of clothing seems to be her aesthetic.

“This is our first time out in the world. Yours, too. I mean other than coming to work.”

Holtz spins in a circle, her hands out stretched. “The belt is a-go now that it’s self-contained. What better way to celebrate than lunch?”

“Are you sure you want to do this? Aren’t you worried people will notice you’re not eating?”

“Nobody notices jack all in this city, Er-bear.” She swings back to match Erin’s gait. “I could go ghost right now--”

“Don’t, please.”

“Oh, I shan’t. But I could.”

“And nobody would notice?” Erin scoffs. She supposes her disbelief stems in part from her own inability to take her eyes off the vivacious ghost; she can’t imagine other people not being captivated as well--she darts a glance around, but nobody on the street is looking at them. There is some truth, then, in Holtzmann’s statement. “I’m sorry this new version of the belt messed with your physicality. We’ll keep trying.”

“That’s the spirit.” Holtzmann winks after her pun and then hurries to the door of a diner she claims near and dear to her heart. Pulling it open, she ushers Erin inside and immediately plops down in the booth nearest the door.

“You used to come here?”

“Like rain storms in Florida.”

“Every day around two in the afternoon?”

Holtz snorts. A waitress hands them both menus, but Holtzmann doesn’t bother opening hers. Erin scans the items for a moment before Holtz pulls the menu from her fingers. “I got you.”

Stuttering, Erin gets through three halfhearted complaints before the waitress returns and Holtzmann orders for both of them--a turkey sandwich for Erin and a cup of coffee for herself. Erin isn’t sure why they traveled so far for a turkey sandwich, and when she asks, all she gets in return is a coy smile and a shrug.

Erin takes one bite and still doesn’t understand. She chews, swallows, and opens her mouth to question--but Holtzmann doesn’t let her get more than a syllable out before stating simply, “We can be normal.”

0-0-0

They tumble into bed the moment they return home. Although Holtzmann lacks feeling in her nerve endings, Erin insists on carefully stripping the woman, who she hasn’t seen bare before. She peels away the trench coat, the vest, the scarf, the shirt, and the bra and marvels at just how much clothing the slighter woman wears. She kisses the cool skin laid out in front of her and hopes that someday they get the belt up to full and optimal performance: self-contained functionality with no charging without sacrificing Holtz’s physicality.

Holtz stops her from undoing the lower garments and steps off the bed to remove her trousers and underwear, all while avoiding touching the belt except to move it out of the way. The belt comes to rest on her hips, dangling just below her belly button. Erin swallows hard at the sight and waves Holtzmann back onto the bed.

As she traces her hands along Holtz’s ribs and stomach, she can’t keep from trembling. “I wish you could feel this.”

“According to every teacher I’ve ever had, I have a very active imagination,” Holtz counters, dipping in for a kiss.

“It’s just, you feel so good.” Erin shifts her mouth to the side and kisses along Holtz’s jaw. “And it’s not fair, y’know? You know my spots, but I don’t know yours.”

Holtz drags her hands up Erin’s outer thighs and tugs on the edge of Erin’s slacks. Erin reaches down and fumbles her button open and her zipper down. With only minor struggling, she kicks her pants and panties to the side. Holtz’s fingers glide inward and toy with the sensitive skin just below the apex of Erin’s legs.

“I know my favorite spot,” Holtz purrs in Erin’s ear. Erin rolls her hips, but Holtz drags her hand away too quickly. “Nuh-uh, baby. We’re doing this my way.”

Moments later, Erin is sprawled on the bedspread, the rest of her clothing joining her slacks on the floor. Despite the air in her room being quite warm, her nipples harden under Holtz’s eager stare. She oofs as Holtz tugs her up and flips her onto her stomach.

“What are you doing?”

“Innovating,” Holtz replies, lifting her hips.

“Wha--” Erin sputters to a halt as a cold finger eases into her from behind. She presses her face into her pillows to muffle the sudden onslaught of heady noises bursting from deep within her. This lasts all of twenty seconds before Holtz’s free hand nests in her hair and draws her head back. Her grunts and groans fill the room, complemented by the Holtz’s small huffs of exertion.

When Holtz inserts another finger, Erin’s cries pitch up. The hand in her hair frees itself and snakes around her body to massage her clit. Unable to control herself, Erin thrusts her hips back; Holtz leans over her and places a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses along her lower back. Coming doesn’t take long, but Holtz doesn’t remove her fingers straight away. She curls them slowly, grazing against the sensitive, velvety skin she can’t quite feel.

“You’re going to kill me,” Erin gasps. Her toes curl as Holtz continues petting her over-stimulated body. “Please.”

“Aight.” Holtz withdraws and lets Erin collapse. She leaves the room for a moment and returns with clean fingers, and when she eases onto the bed, she draws Erin into her arms.

Erin nestles against her. “You do realize that when we fix that belt, you’re going to get it?”

“You’ll have to catch me first, see,” Holtz responds, adopting a ridiculous fake accent.

Erin laughs. “Y’know, this was only supposed to be a lunch break. They’ll be expecting us back at the firehouse eventually.”

“Call in sick.”

“They saw us literally two hours ago.”

“Food poisoning.”

Erin reaches for her phone, realizing that this is the first time in her life she’s ever played hooky. The thought sends a bolt of anxiety through her, but Holtz’s fingers stroking down her back calm her down long enough for her to call Abby and fake a few coughs. Abby doesn’t seem to believe her but thankfully doesn’t press for details.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Art by Eevachu  
> | [Tumblr](http://eevachu.tumblr.com/) | [Website](http://www.eevachu.com/) | [Commissions](http://commissions.eevachu.com/) | [SFW Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Eevachu) | [NSFW Patreon](https://www.patreon.com/Squiggalaimon) |


	16. Chapter 16

She wakes to the sound of her phone ringing. Unable to pry her eyes open, she fumbles around blind for her cell, which she can’t seem to locate for the life of her. The ringing ends abruptly, and she resigns herself to figuring out who called later.

“Dr. Gilbert’s phone, Jillian speaking.”

This makes her bolt upright. She stares at Holtzmann, who leers at her and nods at whatever the speaker is saying. Erin scrambles forward, reaching for the phone, but Holtzmann scoots just out of the way.

“I see. Yes, she does have a secretary now, and yes, I would love to check her schedule to see if she has an opening for lunch some time this week.”

“Holtz, give me the phone.”

“Wednesday at two?” Holtz grins and sprints to the door, down the hallway, and into the bathroom.

Erin dashes after and falls against the now-locked bathroom door. “Holtz, come on. Who’s on the phone? What are you doing?”

Muffled, she hears Holtz confirm, “That sounds good. I’ll pencil you in.”

She pounds on the door. “Open up, Holtz, and I swear I won’t kill you.”

The door swings open, and Holtz deposits the phone in her waiting hand. “Hard to kill a ghost.”

“I’d find a way.” Erin checks her phone log and blanches. “You told my mother I’d have lunch with her?”

“Survey says…”

“Why would you do that? What part of the history I’ve told you suggested that I’d want to have lunch with her? Oh my God.” Erin rubs her forehead and paces down the hallway. “This is going to be awful. Oh my God.”

Holtz shrugs and heads to the kitchen. They’ve spent most of the afternoon in bed, napping and talking, which means Erin hasn’t eaten much since lunch. The sun is already past the horizon, and Erin’s stomach grumbles loudly. She follows Holtz, still shaking her head.

“I don’t think you understand--”

Holtz holds a hand by her mouth and pretends to speak into a radio. “Message received. Over and out.”

Erin can’t think of anything more to say and so returns to her room. She sits on the bed, flops back, and drags a heap of blankets over her entire body. Holtz may be the ghost, but she’s the one who wishes she were dead.

0-0-0

“Oh, come on.” Abby elbows her just hard enough to make her gasp. “Your mom is great.”

“You only think that because she always had your favorite snacks around.”

“And she always asked about how I was doing,” Abby corrects.

“Well, she never forced you through therapy.”

“That’s true.”

Erin cradles her head in her hands and stares down at the desk. While Kevin is at the dentist, she’s taken over his responsibilities, if only to give herself some distance from Holtz. She knows Holtz didn’t mean to upset her this thoroughly, and she’s trying not to lash out, but she’s just so frustrated. She usually screens her calls, listens to her mother’s messages, and then decides what she wants to do without the pressure of her mother guilting her. Now, she can’t renege on lunch unless she wants to drag all of Catherine Gilbert’s fury down upon her.

“I’ll go with you, if you want.”

“No.” Erin sighs and shakes her head. She’s going to face this battle by herself. “She’s just my mom. This’ll be fine. Right?”

Abby smiles and slaps her shoulder. “Right.”

0-0-0

“You’re not coming with me.” 

Erin shifts out of the Holtz’s grip and continues sorting through her clothing. She has to find something neat, clean, and professional, so that her mother doesn’t think that her new job has lowered her standard of living. She doesn’t want to sit through an hour of food she doesn’t like just to listen to her mother pressure her to find a real job again. 

“C’mon.” Holtz lifts one of Erin’s shirts to her nose and inhales. Erin snatches the garment back and tosses it to the ground.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that step, yet. I haven’t dated anyone in--in some time, to say the least, and meeting the parents is big, at least for me.” She doesn’t want to explain how her parents have accidentally chased away any romantic prospects they’ve met. “So, please. You’ve already done enough damage setting this up. Don’t make it worse.”

Holtz lifts her hands over her head. “I give up. Don’t shoot.”

“Is that your way of apologizing?”

Shrugging, Holtz retrieves the cast-away shirt and holds it to Erin’s chest. “This is nice. Wear this one.”

“You’re not out of trouble,” Erin warns as she dons the shirt. Tutting, Holtz does up the buttons and straightens Erin’s collar. Erin turns to look in the mirror hanging from her closet door. “You still owe me one hell of a favor.”

“I look forward to repayment,” Holtz replies with a wink.

0-0-0

She enters the sushi restaurant and immediately spots her mother sitting in a booth near a fish tank. Her mother doesn’t spot her, however, so she sucks in a deep breath and fights the urge to just turn around and go home. Forcing herself forward, she approaches the table and greets her mother.

“You’re looking well,” Catherine says evenly as she rises, hugs Erin, and kisses Erin’s cheek.

“So are you.”

They take their seats, and for a long moment, there is tense silence. Erin reminds herself to murder Holtz later. A waiter serves them water, and Erin gulps it down, just to have something to do other than stare blankly at the fish tank.

“You have a secretary.”

“No. Well, there’s a receptionist, but he’s for all of us.”

“He sounded very feminine.”

“Oh, you mean the woman who answered my phone.”

“Yes.”

Erin laughs and squirms. “Just a friend who stole my phone before I could answer it.”

Catherine fiddles with her napkin. “We need to have a serious discussion, Erin.”

“Mom, I don’t want to argue about my current line of work.”

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry we doubted you all those years ago.” Catherine reaches across the table and takes Erin’s hand. Erin struggles not to yank away.

“What changed your mind?”

“Your father recently purchased a mirror from an estate sale.”

Erin frowns, wondering what that has to do with anything. “And?”

“And there have been--well, frankly, strange occurrences ever since we hung it up in the living room.”

“So, that’s why you’re here? To ask for my help?”

“Yes.” Catherine releases her grip and clears her throat. “I didn’t think you’d agree to see me otherwise.”

While that was technically correct, Erin scoffs loudly. “You’re my mother. Of course I’d see you.”

“You screen my calls.”

“I--No, of course not. I’m just--very busy.”

“It’s okay, Erin. I know we didn’t provide you with an ideal childhood. For that, I am truly sorry.”

Erin stands, accidentally knocking into the waiter who has appeared to take their order. She apologizes, excuses herself, and all but runs to the bathroom, where she locks herself in a stall and fights a panic attack.


	17. Chapter 17

“So, are we doing it?” Abby balances on an elbow and pokes Erin when Erin refuses to respond. “I mean, I’d never turn down hanging out with Mrs. Gilbert, but this is totally your call.”

Holtz sulks in the corner, idly tapping a screwdriver against a ghost trap. She’s made a point of clearing her throat every once in a while to remind the three others that she’s still there, and when that fails, she taps a little louder. Erin shoots her annoyed looks from time to time, as a counter reminder that she’s still frustrated by Holtz setting up the luncheon with her mom.

“We have to,” she replies eventually. “Disregarding my past, this is our job. We can’t just let a ghost cause anyone harm--and this is an invaluable opportunity to study a cursed object. I’m an adult. I will comport myself as such.”

Patty grips her arm and squeezes. “We can do the investigation without you.”

“No, I am a part of this team.” Erin holds her head high. “I can handle this.”

0-0-0

She carries a heavy bag of equipment into her childhood home and avoids making eye contact with her father, who stands in the doorway to greet her. He stutters half a word out and then falls silent when he realizes that this is uncomfortable for her. She sets the bag down in the front hall and gestures to the women behind her.

“Dad, you remember Abby. Behind her is Patty, and at the end is Holtzmann.”

Erin knows she got her mother’s lean looks and lank hair--just as much as she knows she got her father’s social ineptitude. He lifts a hand, grunts when Abby hugs him tightly, and gingerly pats her back. Patty gives him a half wave, and Erin hopes Holtzmann will just walk straight on by. Instead, Holtz stops and eyes him.

“You’re Richard?”

“Uh-yes. And you’re Holtzmann.”

“Uh-yes.”

He squirms under her examination. “Nice to meet you.”

“We’ll see,” she replies cryptically before finally stepping over the threshold and moving toward the living room. 

Erin lets out a small sigh, glad that went better than she feared. Holtz has been sassier than usual, a byproduct of Erin’s continued lack of forgiveness, and Erin is half-certain there’s some sort of blowout on the horizon. She starts to move past her father, but Richard glances at her and then transfers his gaze to the team setting up their equipment.

“They seem like good people.”

“They are.”

“Do they--did you…” He sighs. “I suppose it’s none of my business.”

“What?”

“Are they aware of what happened when you were a child?”

“Bits and pieces.”

He casts his gaze to the ground. “No wonder the blonde one seemed a little--”

“Oh no,” she hurries to interject. “That’s just Holtz. You get used to her.”

“I see.”

“So, tell me more about this mirror. Mom said you got it at an estate sale?”

He nods. “The deceased was a collector of rare artifacts. We were told the mirror came from Germany, or Austria, or somewhere around there. To be honest, we didn’t pay much attention to the history because we just liked how it looked.”

“And what have you been experiencing?”

“I noticed odd smells at first.” He gestures for her to follow him into the living room. “I thought maybe there was something coated on the wood, so I purchased some specialty cleanser. It helped at first, but the smell came back stronger.”

Erin lowers her nose to the surface and inhales. She sniffs again. “Abby, come get a whiff of this.”

Abby does so and nods. “Definitely smells like ionic residue.”

“What does that mean?”

Abby grins at Richard. “It means, Mr. Gilbert, that we have our first supporting evidence that suggests you have a ghost.”

0-0-0

At one in the morning, Holtz kicks her feet up on the couch and watches Erin carefully. Erin, feeling Holtz’s eyes on her, turns away from her computer monitor and stares back. “Can I help you?”

“Let’s talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“The weather?” Holtz cocks an eyebrow and waves a hand to her left. “There’s a serious cold front that seems to be here to stay. All you folks at home, remember to bundle up and drive safe.”

Erin snorts and then sobers quickly. She’s not supposed to find Holtz cute or funny right now. Holtz overstepped her boundaries, and she can’t just overlook that. “Go ahead, then. Talk.”

“Progress. Join me on the couch.”

“This is my parents’ house,” Erin shoots back. “If I do, you keep your hands to yourself.”

Holtz lifts her hands innocently. “Can do, captain.”

Still wary but willing, Erin abandons her equipment in favor of the cushion next to Holtz. She crosses her ankles and folds her arms over her chest. “Okay, I’m here.”

“I am aware,” Holtz starts, her voice confident but petering out, “that I may have perhaps done something I shouldn’t have.”

“You think?”

“But I might suggest you look at the intent rather than the outcome.”

“I was never big on philosophy.” In spite of herself, Erin relents. “What was your intent?”

“Family,” Holtz says. “I found one. I thought I could help you connect with yours.”

Erin leans her head on Holtz’s shoulder. “Next time you want to do me a favor, try asking me what I’d like.”

“Can do.”

“I’ve always been curious. Do you have any ghostly abilities?”

“A girl’s gotta have her secrets.”

“Can you sense if there is a ghost around here?”

“No idea.”

The stairs behind them creak, and Erin whips around. Catherine stands on the bottom step, her hand on the railing. Her eyes dart between Erin and Holtz, and Erin strains to keep from flinching farther away from her girlfriend. She recalls with perfect, painful clarity how dismissive her mother had been at her shy admission that she liked girls as well as boys.

“Have you caught anything?”

Erin shakes her head. “Not yet. But that doesn’t mean anything. Sometimes ghosts are quiet.”

“And sometimes, they’re very loud.”

Erin knocks Holtz gently to keep her quiet. “It may just take a few nights of camping out. Abby and Patty will be here tomorrow to keep an eye on things.”

“Is your equipment recording?”

“Yes.”

“Then why don’t you head up to your room and get some rest. We haven’t done much but clean in there since you moved out.” Catherine hesitates. “Ms. Holtzmann, if you’d like to rest as well--”

“I don’t sleep.”

“--we do have a guest room.”

“Mom, this is the woman you spoke to on the phone.”

“I know.”

Erin grits her teeth and struggles to keep her voice flat. “She’s my girlfriend, not my secretary.”

Holtz’s hand snakes across to her lap and grabs her wrist. The small touch is like a buoy, even though she feels like sinking. She sees the same old disappointment in Catherine’s gaze, and she wants to disappear.

“Oh, I see.” Catherine turns to head up the stairs. “Then I suppose the guest room won’t be necessary.”

“What?”

“Unless you’re not comfortable sharing your room.”

“No,” Erin calls after her mother’s retreating back. She can’t make heads or tails of what’s going on in her life, and she’s not sure she wants to.

“Want me to repay you in your childhood room?”

“Holtzmann!”

“Okay, okay. Point taken. Just know your interest is growing.”

Erin snorts and then asks more seriously, “Would you want to see it? My room, I mean.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”


	18. Chapter 18

Erin traces her fingers along the picture frames lining the halls. She tries to remember when each was taken, but most of her childhood is a blur at this point, and most of her clear memories are negative. There are no frowning faces in these pictures, and if she didn’t know better, she would have sworn that she’d had a delightful childhood all the way through. The Erin in these pictures smiled broadly, sometimes with missing teeth. Some of the smiles were fake, however, so she knows better.

Holtzmann snags a frame from the wall and hides it in her jacket.

“Holtz, not okay.”

“What? It’s just one. There are so many. Are your parents capitalist pigs? They really should spread the wealth.” 

Erin holds her hand out, and Holtz reluctantly places the frame in her waiting palm. She examines the picture and smiles. This picture was taken before her eighth birthday, when her life was likely more settled and pleasant. She sits with a beach ball in her arms, a bonnet on her head, and bright red cheeks. She rubs a thumb over her toothy grin and hangs the frame back on the wall.

She takes Holtz’s hand and guides her to the door at the end of the hallway. She opens the door and thrusts Holtz inside before stepping in as well. Here, Holtz can take whatever she pleases without upsetting anyone. Holtz starts with her dresser, which is lined with knick knacks and trinkets. Holtz picks up a tooth-shaped box and rattles it. Curious, she pops the top and shakes baby teeth out onto her palm.

“Can I have one?”

“Uh…” Erin grimaces but can’t think of a good excuse to say no. “I guess?”

“Cool.”

Holtz takes a total of thirty minutes wandering around the room. She takes her time with everything she touches, as if she’s gleaning some secret information about Erin from each piece. Other than the tooth, she doesn’t steal anything, and when she rounds on Erin’s bed, she simply plops down and closes her eyes.

“No comment about my collection of stuffed animals?”

“I assumed they were all renowned academics.”

Erin blushes. “Only Dr. Teddington has a Ph.D. The rest only got their Bachelor’s and then got jobs.”

Holtz rolls over and explores the various animals cluttering the area around Erin’s pillows. She selects a purple bear in a tweed jacket. “Dr. Teddington, I presume.”

“He got his doctorate at Princeton in Chemical Engineering.”

“A troublemaker, eh?”

Erin laughs and sits on the edge of the bed. She takes the good doctor when he’s offered to her and fondly rubs his ears. “They were my only friends until Abby came along. As lame as that sounds.”

“I had a bunch of tiny robots.”

“I’m sorry about my mom.”

Holtz shrugs. “She seems nice.”

“Nice?” Erin scoffs.

“Would you prefer interesting? I’m going for inoffensive, but I’m open to suggestions.”

“Nice is fine.” Erin tosses Dr. Teddington back toward the pillows and lies next to Holtz, who kindly scoots over to give her space. She stares up at the ceiling and spots the same old crack that she used to pretend was an opening to another dimension.

Holtz rolls on her side and trails her hand down Erin’s stomach. Erin fixes her with a terse stare, and Holtz laughs. “I’m not starting nothing, I promise.”

“That’s what worries me,” Erin retorts. “You’re very good at not starting nothing. In fact, you start a whole lot of something most of the time.”

“Honest to dog Jesus, I just want to be here, with you, like this.”

Erin relaxes, letting Holtz connect them. “It’s weird being back here. It’s like going back in time.”

“Would you?”

“What?”

“Go back in time, if you could. Change something.”

“I wouldn’t have told my parents about the ghost.” The answer pops out immediately and without hesitation. She can only imagine what a healthy and happy adult she might have become otherwise. “You?”

“Isn’t that obvious?”

“You’d avoid dying?”

“I wouldn’t change anything. Maybe go back and see a Michael Jackson concert or something.”

“You really wouldn’t stop yourself from blowing up the building?”

Holtz shakes her head. Erin asks a few more questions, but Holtz seems to be done talking. Erin yawns and requests Holtz wake her up at sunrise. She curls onto her side and sleeps, Holtz’s arm slung snugly around her waist.

0-0-0

“So, it happened after we went to bed?”

Holtz nods and points to the computer screen. Erin scrolls through the footage and then pauses at a glint reflecting in the mirror’s surface. The mirror bounces on the wall and falls still. Erin frowns and replays the scene.

“That’s not much to go off of.”

Stepping away from the computer, Holtz goes to the mirror and raps her knuckles on it. “Hello, ghost. Do you have a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior, Nikola Tesla?”

“That’s not going to work,” Erin says humorlessly. Still, she waits and watches expectantly. Nothing does occur, though, so she shifts back to the computer, proud of her good judgment.

“Did you see that?” Holtz hollers.

Erin turns quickly and finds Holtz laughing at her. “Haha, very funny.”

The shout draws the attention of both elder Gilberts, who enter with mugs of coffee. Erin accepts one from her mother, while Holtz takes one from Richard. She lingers near the mirror, and Richard and Catherine sit on the couch. There is tense silence until Erin snaps the computer shut.

“So, mom, dad, this is Holtzmann. Holtz, this is my mom and dad. Glad we had this talk. We should probably get going.”

“No, stay awhile.” Catherine eyes Holtz, whose clothing is unashamedly rumpled. “We want to know more about you.”

Holtz glances at Erin, who looks petrified. “I’m a mechanical engineer and inventor. We met through work.”

“At Columbia?”

“No.”

Catherine’s grip on her coffee tightens. “I see.”

“And where are you from?”

“Manhattan.” Holtz shrugs. She straightens her clothing and tries to look nonchalant, although she knows she’s entering some dangerous territory. If she reveals too much, that might put Erin in an awkward position. “But that was a long time ago.”

Richard catches on that detail and leans forward. “How old are you?”

“I was born in 1977.”

“You don’t look nearly forty.”

Holtz pulls a face. “Marvels of modern medicine.”

Erin yanks her phone from her pocket and checks her texts. There is nothing on the screen, but she still announces, “Oh, Abby needs us back at the firehouse. We’ll check back in later. For now, just don’t disturb the equipment.”

Holtz bustles after Erin, tipping her head as if she were wearing a hat at Erin’s parents. As soon as they’re outside, Erin threads her fingers through her hair and tugs. Holtz nabs her wrists and gently untangles her.

“You okay?”

“I just--why can’t this be easy?”

“Because life is hard, and then you die. Then, once you die, life continues being hard.”


	19. Chapter 19

“Did they scare you off?” Abby leans her cheek against her palm and gazes at Holtz, who busily works on an invention of some sort. There are a lot of pieces and not a lot of cohesion as of yet, but nobody doubts that Holtz will pull it all together into something functional.

“Nah. I’m the ghost.” Holtz winks at Abby. “I do the scaring here. Boo.”

“You’re about as scary as that ghost that sells cereal.”

“Don’t speak ill of my darling Boo-Berry.”

“Seriously, Holtzmann. Her parents have been known to ward off suitors.”

Holtz waves a hand flippantly and then resumes screwing a part into place. “What are they going to do? Kill me?”

Rolling her eyes, Abby lets the matter go. She knows it’s only a matter of time until Mrs. Gilbert meddles and muddles something up. The Gilbert family curse is an inability to establish and respect boundaries in interpersonal relationships--a fact that used to entertain her as a child. Now, however, she worries that her best friend may be in for tough times in the near future.

0-0-0

Erin sits on the edge of the bathtub and sucks in a deep breath. Her mother’s message sounded desperate, so she gives in and calls the woman back. Catherine answers on the second ring, breathless and frightened.

“Erin, are you alone?”

“Yes.”

“I have to tell you something.”

Digging her toes into the fluffy bath mat, Erin sighs. She has a fairly good guess where this is going, and she’s glad Holtz isn’t around to hear this. “Yes, Mom?”

“That woman--she’s not who she says she is.”

“Holtz is Holtz, I promise.”

“Jillian Holtzmann died ten years ago,” Catherine sputters out. “That woman you’re with--”

“Is Jillian Holtzmann.”

“That’s impossible.”

Erin rubs her temples. “I know she’s dead, Mom. It’s not a problem.”

“Not a problem? You’re dating a dead woman’s imposter--”

“Not an imposter.”

“Then what?”

“A ghost.”

Silence falls between them. Erin understands this may be a lot to take in. After all, her mother struggles with both her bisexuality and the reality of ghosts--and Jillian Holtzmann is a combination of both. She listens to Catherine breathing for two minutes before she can’t take the waiting anymore.

“Mom, I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you?”

“She’s not going to hurt me. At least not on purpose. She’s wonderfully sweet, if you’d give her a chance.”

“Erin, darling--”

“Mom,” Erin interrupts. “All my life, you’ve made me feel badly about the things I’m interested in. And all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be proud of me--to support me. To believe me.”

“I’m so proud of you--”

“You were proud when I was a professor up for tenure.” Erin’s throat feels too thick. She swallows anyway and keeps her voice steady. “But I know I’ve become someone you don’t know how to handle.”

“You are different than I ever expected.”

“You don’t have to handle me. You just have to love me. Get to know Holtz. Love her, too. She’s important to me.”

Immediately, Catherine replies, “I’ll try. I promise. Come by for dinner. Does she eat? Is that rude to ask?”

Erin nearly cries but holds it together until she hangs up. In the silent solitude of the bathroom, she sobs.

0-0-0

At three in the morning, Holtzmann shakes her shoulder until she wakes up. She had been dreaming, and waking up is rough--but she pries her eyes open and peers up at Holtz.

“Abby called. They got something.”

Erin closes her eyes again and tries to roll onto her side, but Holtz holds her steady. “Couldn’t wait ‘til morning?”

“It went after your dad.”

“Is he alright?” Erin springs up, scrambling for a sweatshirt to throw over her top. They need to hurry--if her dad is hurt, then there’s no time to waste.

“He’s fine.” Holtz grips her arm to slow her down. “They don’t need us right now. But Abby wanted you to know right away.”

Erin remains where she is, her head half-thrust into a sweater, her heart hammering wildly in her chest. She manages to keep the frustration from her voice. She’s scared for her dad and not angry with Holtz, but she wants to scream. “You could have led with that.”

“Sorry. I think my social graces are buried with my body.”

She sucks in several breaths and rubs a fist over her eyes. “Well, thank you for relaying the message and giving me a heart attack. Maybe if I die, I can be a ghost with you.”

Holtzmann grabs her shoulders much too tightly and whips her around. There is a serious glint in Holtz’s eyes that she’s never seen before, and when Holtz speaks, there is no humor in the usually goofy voice. “I’m not going to let you die.”

“Ever?” she jokes, trying to lighten the mood and not sure what to make of a Holtzmann who isn’t making faces, changing voices, or popping puns.

“Not for at least sixty years.”

“What if I get so old I don’t remember who you are?”

“I don’t care.” Holtz’s gaze finally lightens, and she adopts a wolfish grin. “All the easier to play tricks on you, my dear.”

“You’d seriously be that big of a jerk to a grandmother?”

“Who says we have grandkids?”

“I do.” Erin frowns. “That’s the whole point of wanting a child later, is that they will someday provide grandchildren.”

“What if they don’t want to have kids?”

“Then they dang well better adopt a cute dog or cat because I demand something to spoil.” Erin releases a breath and realizes that whatever Holtz just pulled has calmed her from her frantic episode. She leans in and kisses Holtz’s cheek, smiling a little self-consciously as she pulls away. “Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it, my dear.” Holtz gestures to bed. “Now, get some rest. You have some work to do in the morning.”

0-0-0

When she enters the house, she blows past Abby and Patty and flings herself onto her father, who is sitting on the couch with a cold pack pressed to his head. He smiles at her open affection and rubs her back.

“Kiddo, I’m fine.”

“What happened?”

“I got up for a glass of water and thought I saw someone by the front door. Note to self, don’t approach shadowy beings in the middle of the night during a supernatural investigation.” His laugh is self-deprecating, and she decides that if he can laugh at himself, then he’s in no imminent danger.

“Dad, don’t do that to me, okay?” She hugs him again before standing and brushing off her clothing. “I’m too young for you to die.”

“Noted.”

Turning to Abby, she administers another hug. “Thank you for calling Holtz.”

“I knew you wouldn’t want to wait to hear the news.”

“So, what’s the plan?”

Abby grins, her eyes flashing. “We’re gonna bust this ghost.”


	20. Chapter 20

Holtz whips out a startling array of tools that Erin didn’t know existed. She peers at them and then at Holtz, who selects an oddly shaped screwdriver and sets about fiddling with a ghost trap. Erin is suspicious of these tools, but she doesn’t dare say anything in front of her parents, who don’t need any reason to think there’s anything wrong with Holtz. If they happen to be stolen tools, then she will talk to Holtz in private later.

“I had an idea this morning,” Holtzmann murmurs as she works. Erin has no idea what’s happening, but the trap is suddenly open, and there are circuits on display. “I was thinking about mice.”

“Mice.” Patty arches an eyebrow. “And this helps us how?”

“A lotta traps kill ‘em with a bit of cheese and a metal bar. Ker-runch. Bleh.” Holtz feigns falling over dead, which makes Erin laugh and then quickly sober.

“How can you make a trap kill a ghost?”

“I’m not. You ever seen those alternative traps?”

“I make my roommate deal with any pest problems. That’s why he’s there.” Patty shakes her head. “So, take my answer as a no.”

Abby leans over Holtz’s work. “The kind that locks them in alive, and you set them free somewhere else?”

“No, still the make-em-dead kind, just not the snap-their-necks kind.”

“Sticky paper,” Erin suggests, earning a beam from Holtz.

“Exactly. Mouse walks in, nobody walks out. Problem solved.”

“I’m not sure I understand how this is going to help anything,” Patty remarks, “but I trust y’all.”

While Holtz tinkers, Erin turns to her mother and father, who watch with expressions alternating between horrified confusion and mild amusement. She gestures to the door and suggests they maybe rent a hotel for the night--think of it like a night on the town--and when they return the following day, their ghost problem will have been handled. She promises.

“Please be careful.” Catherine grips her hands and squeezes. “And when this is all over, I was serious about having you and Jillian over for dinner.”

“She prefers Holtzmann.”

Richard kisses her cheek and then ushers Catherine to the stairs. “We’ll be out of your hair in a few minutes. Just let us pack a bag.”

Erin jumps at the sound of Holtz slamming the trap shut again. Holtz carries the trap to the base of the mirror, lays it down, and dusts her hands off. The group crowds around and peers at what seems to be the same old trap as always; Holtz is quick to correct them.

“I tweaked the polarity. We leave this baby buzzing beneath the mirror tonight, and if any ghost tries to exit, it’ll get stuck.”

“That’s the theory anyway,” Erin mutters. This all sounds well and good in the abstract, but she doesn’t want to risk their safety on an untested device.

“Worst case, they get loose, and we bust ‘em up.” Holtz shrugs. She’s much more used to being around highly volatile equipment and doesn’t seem nearly as concerned about losing a hand should something explode or malfunction. “But seriously, this could be part of the solution to the zoo problem.”

“How so?” Abby helps Holtz settle the trap beneath the mirror.

“If we build a containment unit, we can have one of these sticky traps at the bottom. That way there’s an additional safety in place, and it would avoid the problem of ghosts slamming up against the glass and scaring people.” Holtz glances at Patty and waggles her eyebrows. “We ghosts like doing that, you know.”

Erin heads for the kitchen. They’re in for a long day and night, and she wants to keep everyone full and hydrated while they wait for the elusive ghost to make its presence known. She pauses by the sink and stares into the backyard. The space outside seemed so much bigger when she was a child, but she supposes this shouldn’t strike her as odd. She’s older now, and she sees things as they are, rather than as what they could be.

0-0-0

The proton pack is heavy, and the straps dig into her shoulders. She aims the blaster down the dark hallway, waiting for a sign that the Baron is nearby. Well, she isn’t certain of his title, but he certainly looks like some sort of royalty from decades past. Watching him spill out of the mirror, slog through the sticky trap, and burst free had been surreal. He is tall, dapper, and skeletal, and she gets the idea that he’s not exactly happy with his new housing arrangements.

A voice drifts through the halls, singing sweetly, “The itsy bitsy spider climbed up the water spout…”

She fights a smile, which overtakes her lips nonetheless. Holtz is uniquely spirited and joyful, and she admires the endless enthusiasm that seems to animate the other woman. Being dead doesn’t appear to have slowed Holtz down in the slightest. Since they met, Erin has introduced Holtz to new technology and ideas, and although she expects Holtz to struggle or marvel, Holtz just picks everything up with a grin. She wishes things were that easy for her.

“Down came the rain…”

“Holtz, will you stop?” Patty hollers from the first floor. “Y’all’re creeping me the hell out.”

Holtz’s voice fades away, but Erin imagines she’s singing under her breath now. She steps forward and nudges the door to her old bedroom open. Freezing, she stares at the shadowy figure by her window. Its head turns slowly, and the Baron’s sharp features come into focus. His craggy mouth drops open, and he screams, knocking her back. He blasts past her, coating her with slime in the process.

0-0-0

Holtz pumps her fists in the air and kicks the air by the trap. Although the stickiness hadn’t been strong enough of a restraint, the concept will work once tweaked. She has her own reasons for being excited, too, apart from the rest of the team’s enthusiasm at another ghost capture. She traces her fingers along the mirror’s frame and thinks.

“Where we going to celebrate?” Abby drags Erin around the room by the wrists.

“To take a shower,” Erin replies dryly. Her hair has hardened, and flakes of ectoplasm fall like snow to the ground.

“Oh, I’ll go there, too,” Holtz offers, winking and drawing a blush to Erin’s cheeks.

“Get a room.” Abby wrinkles her nose. “No, let’s go out for drinks. On me.”

“Can’t say no to that.”

Holtz sighs. “Well, fine, but for the record, I’m still in favor of showering.”

Erin waves them off. “Shoot me a text. I’m going to clean up here, and I’ll catch up later.”

0-0-0

She stands in the shower and lets the hot water beat down on her shoulders. She’s already scrubbed her skin twice now, and some of the residue still remains. Rather than coat herself with soap again, she stares at the wall and considers just how different she is from the girl who used to sit in the tub and cry while burning hot water singed her knees.

Perhaps connecting with her parents won’t be all that bad. Her mother seems willing to try, and her dad sounds like he wants her back in his life as well. She supposes she’ll have to tell Holtz later that her interference, while initially unwelcome, may end up having an end result that matches her intent.

She peels plasm from from her cheek and grimaces. She reminds herself again that she loves her life, regardless of all the gross substance she continues to get covered in. She loves her job, her friends, and her ghost. And, even after everything, she loves her parents.


	21. Chapter 21

When Erin enters the firehouse alone, Abby and Patty exchange curious looks. Erin ignores them in favor of slowly sipping her scalding hot coffee and trying to feel properly awake. She sits down at her desk and slouches over her papers. A drip of coffee slides down her to-go mug and stains a complicated equation that she can’t bring herself to care about in that moment.

She stifles a yawn and drinks deeply, all the while begging the caffeine to kick in before she falls straight on her face. She hasn’t been this tired since the all-nighters she pulled as an undergraduate, desperate to maintain a perfect grade point average. She barely notices when Abby taps the table directly next to her.

“You doing okay, hun?”

“Oh, yes,” she replies and then immediately covers her mouth as she fails to fight off another yawn.

“Where’s Holtz?”

“Home.”

“Everything fine between you two?”

“She’s working on something secret.” Erin fumbles for her coffee, which to her great disappointment is empty. “Don’t ask me what.”

“I was beginning to think the two of y’all were attached at the hip.” Patty appraises her, grabs her mug, and takes it to the coffee pot steaming in the corner. “This isn’t Starbucks, but it’ll kick your teeth in.”

“Deathwish coffee,” Abby clarifies. “I bought it because I thought it was fitting for our organization, but now I’m addicted.”

Erin takes the cup gratefully and takes another sip. Her eyes pop open. “This is strong.”

“Don’t drink too much right away. You’ll start jittering.”

“She’s right.”

Erin nods and sets the coffee aside for later. “So, what do we have on the agenda today?”

“First quiet day in over a month.” 

Patty sounds relieved, and Erin implicitly understands. They’ve been so busy that they’ve been forced to let things around the firehouse slide. They had at one point tried to get Kevin to clean up for them, but he had gotten scared of the vacuum cleaner. There’s more than enough to do, even with no reported hauntings, not to mention the work they each want to do.

She glances at her equations and decides that cleaning is more appealing when her brain feels like mush. She rolls back the sleeves of her button up shirt and gets to her feet. The cleaning supplies are in the closet, covered in dust, and she spends the rest of the day on her hands and knees scrubbing up splatters of ectoplasm, scuffs from their boots, and oil. The physical labor is gratifying, and she returns home feeling like she achieved something.

Entering the apartment, she tosses her keys into the waiting dish by the door and calls out for Holtzmann. There is no response, so Erin eases out of her shoes and treads inward. The kitchen is empty and so is the living room. She checks the bathroom and then the bedroom before admitting that Holtzmann must not be around. Now that the belt is working so nicely, this doesn’t entirely surprise her. She’s a bit disappointed, but she expects Holtz will turn up sooner or later.

0-0-0

At just after two in the morning, she yawns and sits up. Disoriented, she glances around and figures out that she’s on the floor in the living room, a pile of books spread out around her. She must have fallen asleep while doing some light reading, she determines as she examines the mess she had created and subsequently drooled on.

She works a knot out of her shoulder and knocks her head back and forth to crack her sore joints. That’s when she recalls she was waiting up for Holtzmann to return.

“Holtzmann?” she calls, staggering to her feet and nearly slipping on a slick journal. “You home?”

She searches her apartment once more and frowns. This time, she’s not as calm about the situation. She scrambles for her phone and dials Abby. She’s extremely confused when a male voice answers.

“Ghostbusters.”

She dimly hears Abby chastising--Kevin, she realizes. Kevin answered Abby’s personal phone. She rubs the bridge of her nose and stores that away for later consideration. When Abby finally gets on the line, Erin spits out, “Holtz is missing.”

“Like--”

“Like she’s not here and hasn’t been here all evening. I can’t find her belt, and I can’t find her.”

“Okay, deep breaths, Er. I’ll be over in a few minutes, okay?”

“Okay.”

Erin stands at the front door and leans her head against the wall. Rather than let her mind spiral off about Holtz, she counts the seconds until she hears a knock. As soon as she opens the door, Abby marches in and hugs her tightly. She clings to her friend and tries to remember to breathe.

“I found something in the back alley that you should see.”

“The back alley?”

“Holtz tests things back there sometimes.”

“Why didn’t I know that?”

Abby shrugs and digs into her bag. She draws out the Life Belt and hands it to Erin, who nearly drops it. Examining it closely, Erin runs her fingers along the metal parts and discovers a small chamber that wasn’t there before. With trepidation, she uses a fingernail to jimmy the chamber open and finds her baby tooth inside.

“What on Earth is this doing in here?”

Abby shrugs. “I don’t know. But she didn’t seem like she was out there, and she’s definitely not in the belt.”

“Do you think she’s okay?”

“I hope so. I mean, you’d think someone would have called us if they saw a ghost--y’know, rather than attacking it themself.”

Erin clutches the belt helplessly and then sets it by her keys. “So, what do we do?”

“We can go out and search the alley for another clue, or we can wait here and see if her spirit returns to the place it’s supposedly haunting.”

Erin hates just sitting around, but she doesn’t know what, if anything, they’ll find in the alley that might be useful. Still, she’d rather be doing something, so she says, “I’ll go down to the alley. You stay here. If she comes back, call me immediately.”

Abby salutes, and Erin hurries down to the alley. She notices a few scorch marks here and there that suggest that Holtz has indeed been blowing things up in the vicinity. She wonders how much she doesn’t notice about Holtz, and her stomach clenches. She’s been too focused on her own stuff, she realizes. Holtz went missing on her watch. She closes her eyes and presses her knuckles into the dirty bricks of her building.

She’s not going to fall apart. Not this time. She’d promised her friends she wouldn’t go off the deep end, and she won’t. She’ll go back up to Abby, and they’ll figure this out together. She glances around the alley once more to ascertain if any sort of violence transpired recently, and then returns home.

Abby sits in the kitchen, phone pressed to her ear. As soon as Erin walks in, she hastily says good bye and tucks the phone away. “Anything?”

“No.” Erin narrows her eyes. “This is probably not the best time to ask but… are you seeing Kevin?”

“I see him at work,” Abby replies. “Just like I see you and Patty.”

“Abby.”

“He thinks we’re dating,” she replies wistfully. “I took him up on his offer for a good time once, when I was feeling lonely, and now he thinks we’re going to get married.”

“Have you ever told him that’s not the plan?”

“Explicitly. I said, Kevin, you were a good lay--”

“Way too much information, Ab--”

“--but that’s all I want. I am not your girlfriend, and I never will be. I don’t do romance.”

“And he’s still pining?” Erin evaluates this and tilts her head. “Abby, why was he over when I called you?”

“He’s a good lay,” Abby replies defensively. 

“Maybe he’d get the message better if you didn’t keep sleeping with him?”

“Where would the fun in that be?” Holtz asks, striding into the kitchen with the belt back around her waist.


	22. Chapter 22

“Where have you been?” Erin isn’t sure whether she’s angry or relieved, and her tone reflects her inner confusion. She glares at Holtz, softens, and then frowns. Abby snorts and pushes her forward. Holtz catches her and kisses her cheek.

“Stuck in a trash can.”

“Seriously?”

Grinning, Holtz shoves her hands in her pockets. “Well, sorta. I was experimenting, and it didn’t work out exactly the way I figured.”

“And that ended with you out of the belt?”

“The experiment was with the belt,” Holtz explains, gesturing to her waist. “But, Houston, we had a problem.”

Erin wants to slap her shoulder but restrains herself. “Holtz, how could you? If something had gone wrong, there was nobody here to help you.”

Holtz lifts her hands defensively. “I’m haunting this apartment. Worst case, I just end up back here.”

“It took you all day and night to get back.”

“Well, technically I was here, but I wasn’t strong enough to do much of anything. I think I need to spend more time in ghost mode so I can maximize my efficiency. I bet once I get this all worked out, I’d be a massive help on busts if I went ghost.”

“Wait a second. Slow down.” Erin blinks and shakes her head. “What are you talking about?”

Abby leans against the counter. “So, you do have ghost powers? You’ve been holding out on us, Holtz?”

“Only a little. I’ve been developing them but obviously not enough.”

“Don’t ignore me. What were these experiments? What were you trying to do? Why do you think you’ll be able to take the belt off on busts?”

For the first time, Holtz looks honestly sheepish. “Sorry.”

“Just tell me.” Erin feels her patience boiling off very quickly. She’s tired, her emotions have been all over the place, and she just wants everything to feel alright again.

“Number one. I’ve been attempting to improve the belt’s functionality. Y’know. For obvious reasons.” Holtz winks, and Erin flushes. “Number two. My working theory is that the belt sucks power so bad because I’m technically haunting this apartment. Seeing that ghost at your old house gave me the idea of haunting a thing instead of a place. If that thing is mobile and attached to the belt, there’s no more strain to keep me physical. Badaboom! Which brings us to the final question of the evening, number three. If I’m haunting something attached to the belt, then I could remove it, do what I’m gonna do, and then get back into the belt.”

“Clothing--”

“Isn’t a problem. I corporealize in the outfit I died in, and I can change my clothing into something physical later.”

“Why would you keep this from me?”

Holtz stares at the floor and runs a hand through her wild curls. “It was going to be a surprise. I thought I was close enough for a trial run… I know what I need to do, though--”

“You can’t keep taking risks like that. You can’t.” Erin can no longer take the laissez-faire attitude with which Holtz tackles her affairs. She doesn’t want to exist without Holtz, but Holtz doesn’t seem to care. Stepping back, she rubs at her eyes and heads for the bedroom. Perhaps this will be easier to deal with in the morning.

0-0-0

She sits in bed past the ringing of the alarm with Holtz curled around her. Knowing that Holtz doesn’t sleep, she assumes the blonde joined her at some point just to keep her company, and she’s mildly touched by the gesture. While they usually sleep together, they have separate parts of the bed they occupy, as Erin didn’t think of herself as a cuddler.

She’s beginning to rethink that supposition, however, as she loves how it feels to have Holtzmann so close. She strokes Holtz’s back to alert Holtz that she’s fully conscious. “Good morning.”

“I’m sorry,” Holtz says without preamble. “I know I was reckless.”

“I’m sorry I reacted so strongly. I was just scared.”

“I… I can try to be less reckless--”

“You can’t change who you are,” Erin interrupts. In the light of day, she’s better able to handle the events of the previous night. Yes, she almost lost Holtz--but she realizes that her job puts her in a position of almost losing everyone she cares about all the time. She’s never been good with uncertainty, but she’s got to get comfortable with it. “I wouldn’t want you to, anyway.”

0-0-0

In the kitchen, Erin pours herself a cup of coffee and listens to Holtz rooting through the fridge. Abby left a note excusing her from work for the first half of the day, and while she does want to continue her theoretical developments at the firehouse, she’s grateful for a calm morning spent with Holtz. “Can I ask why you have my baby tooth in your belt?”

Holtz pulls out a carton of eggs, an onion that’s seen better days, and a few slices of cheese. “I was trying to haunt it.”

“My baby tooth.” Erin turns and cocks an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I didn’t want to choose just something random.” Holtz spills the supplies onto the counter before turning to the stove. “An omelette okay?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“So, my thought was, I haunt your apartment, so the switch might be easier if I haunted something related to you as well. I didn’t want to use something current because what if it didn’t work, and whatever keeps me here just assumed I was still haunting this location?”

This is not the easiest line of thought to follow, but as Holtzmann is the ghost, Erin decides to nod and agree as if the logic is flawless. “So something of mine not related to this apartment.”

“Right.”

“What if you had ended up haunting my childhood bedroom?”

“Then I’d have a wonderful time getting to know your parents until you came and got me.” Holtz winks. “I’d win them over. Parents love me.”

Although she’s coming to understand that joking is Holtz’s approach to tough subjects, Erin wishes she could take this seriously. To keep from getting upset all over again, she sips her coffee and simply watches Holtz cook her breakfast.

Adding ingredients to the pan, Holtz glances over her shoulder. Erin stands stiffly across the small room, a hand crossed protectively over her stomach. “I’m not really good at the scary stuff.”

“Holtz, you’re a ghost.”

“The really scary stuff,” Holtz corrects. The pan heats, and the ingredients begin to sizzle. Erin sniffs the air, and her mouth waters. “Like feelings.”

“Oh.”

“But I figured out that you don’t excel unless you take risks. D’you know what my mantra was through grad school? Go big or go home.”

“I’m just afraid you’re going to go so big that home gets destroyed in the process.”

Holtz shakes her head emphatically. “You’re my home, and I’m never gonna hurt you.”


	23. Chapter 23

Over breakfast, Erin probes into the experiments Holtz has been running. Unsurprisingly, there is a distinct lack of order in Holtz’s methods and absolutely no documentation of what has been performed, nor what the results were. According to Holtz, she did some stuff and nothing really worked--a response that makes Erin want to tear her hair out.

“That’s not science, Holtz.”

“Oh, please. You really believe you have to write it down?”

“Yes! Science is about repeatable results.”

“I’m sure there are millions of scientists ready to try what I’m trying.” Holtz laughs and leans back in her chair. Although she isn’t eating, she has a set of silverware in front of her, and she nabs the spoon to balance on her nose.

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” Holtz sits very still, but the spoon still slides down and plops into her lap. “I need a real nose for this. I used to be a champion.”

“Let me help you,” Erin asks quietly.

“I don’t think there’s much you can do to make this spoon stick.”

“With the belt.”

Holtz is silent for a moment. She fiddles with the spoon before meeting Erin’s gaze. “It’s a really personal project. I’m supes happy you helped me get it going, but from here--”

“Personal project? You’ve never called it that before.”

“I never called it that?”

“Holtz.”

“I was working on it when I died.”

Erin frowns. “But you were alive then. Why would you need a belt to make yourself corporeal again?”

“It wasn’t for me,” Holtz reveals, averting her gaze. “It was for my dad.”

“Do you--”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it.” Holtz’s response is quick and biting. She clears her throat and stands. “I’ve got this.”

“At least let me help you work on transferring your haunting from place to object. My parents invited us over for dinner. We could get a better look at the mirror?”

Holtz’s usual cocky smile returns, and Erin is glad to see the familiar dimples. “Do they know I’m not really big on eating right now?”

“We’ll figure this out, and then maybe you will be.”

0-0-0

The fire isn’t large, but Erin is furious as she sprays the fire extinguisher and quenches the flames. Holtz and Abby stand a few feet away, arguing fiercely about what went wrong, while Patty cranks a window open to release the smoke. Erin whirls on her girlfriend and shakes her head.

“What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t thinking,” Holtz counters. “I was inventing.”

“I didn’t know you could accomplish the latter without the former.”

Holtz waggles her eyebrows. “You’d be surprised.”

“Guys, we’re only here because the mayor hasn’t remembered we still exist. We’ve been saving people lately, but we haven’t saved the city in half a year. If we burn this place down, I don’t think they’ll fund a totally new lab.”

Abby has the decency to look somewhat ashamed of her part in the accident but can’t resist casting the blame away. “Look, Holtzmann said it was safe--”

“I said it was probably safe but untested.”

Before they can devolve into another argument, Erin lifts her hand, feeling horribly like her mother. “Children, stop. I don’t care why it happened. I care that it doesn’t happen again. Are we clear?”

They grouse at each other, but she eventually loses interest when the phone rings. She turns to watch Kevin answer. He struggles with taking the message and botches the delivery once he’s hung up. Still, there’s enough sense in his nonsense to deduce there’s a level two malevolent haunting in a jewelry shop not far from their location. That or the jewelry shop wants to offer them a special on engagement rings, but she’s fairly sure Kevin is just rambling about his boyfriend at this point.

0-0-0

“If you were able to go ghost, what would you do?” Abby alternates between looking at the road and at Holtz, who peers out the window.

“I don’t know yet. But there’s gotta be a million and a half cool things I can do. Go through a wall? Fist fight the ghost?”

“As long as you don’t get ectoplasm on Erin, I think you’ll be fine,” Patty comments. She grips the door tightly as Abby swerves around a pothole. She directs her next sentence at Erin: “Unless you’re into that?”

Erin turns bright red and sputters. Holtz jumps in quickly, although her response is just as mortifying as the question. “I’m not really a squirter, Patty. But thanks for asking.”

Patty throws her hand up and stutters out a series of “No, no, no”s, while Abby nearly crashes the car because she’s laughing too hard to properly watch the other traffic on the road. Erin covers her eyes and prays for this car ride to end before her head explodes.

Abby rolls up to the curb, wipes the tears from her cheeks, and gestures for everyone to get out. Erin knocks Holtz with her hip as she goes to collect her equipment and silently promises to get Holtz back for that conversation. Holtz just smirks and helps her get her proton pack on. She secures the belt around her waist, eyes on Holtz’s Life Belt.

“What if you get caught in a blast while you’re a ghost?”

Holtz tilts her head thoughtfully. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

“You might turn into a liability rather than an asset.”

“I’d be careful.”

“But accidents happen.”

“I was an accident, so I can verify that.”

Erin rolls her eyes. They’ll have to talk about this more later, when there isn’t some sort of spirit trying to interrupt the flow of business in downtown New York.

0-0-0

She hugs Holtz to her chest and closes her eyes. Her back is incredibly sore after the ghost at the jewelry store tossed her through a glass display, and she really doesn’t want to try moving for several days. Thankfully, none of the glass broke her skin, so she's bruised but not sliced open. Holtz is blissfully unaware of her pain, so she doesn't have to pretend that she's invincible. If Holtz knew, then she'd spend all her effort trying to show just how well she's doing. She’s supposed to take care of everyone else--not need taking care of herself.

“Holtz?”

“Hm?”

“Why do you like me so much?”

“A lot of reasons, I guess.”

Erin accepts this without comment. She is content with Holtz in her arms, even if she doesn’t quite understand everything that’s led to this moment. She might be injured, but everything feels at peace with Holtz next to her. Yawning, she brushes the hair from Holtz’s face and then kisses the crown of Holtz’s head.

“Good night, Holtz.”

“Good night, Er-bear.”


	24. Chapter 24

Erin wakes up to the feeling of a hand on her breast and a set of lips on her neck. She groans out Holtz’s name and tangles her fingers in Holtz’s hair. A quick glance at the clock assures her that there’s plenty of time before work, so she relaxes into Holtz’s gentle touches. Before long, however, the feather light brushes along her skin just aren’t enough, and she tugs roughly on Holtz’s hair.

“Holtzy,” she grits out.

Holtzmann grins up at her and tweaks her nipple. “Good morning.”

“Fuck me.”

“Oh-ho-ho, I never thought I’d hear you curse. Care to say it again?”

“Jillian Holtzmann,” Erin snaps, pushing on Holtz’s shoulders. “I swear to gosh--”

“Golly! I better do as you say.”

Erin’s comeback is bitten back as Holtz laps at the supple skin of her breast. The rest of the morning flies by, and Erin screams as the alarm clock beeps. She’ll be sore later, she thinks as she watches Holtz remove four fingers from between her legs, but this encounter was a lovely way to wake up. She kisses Holtz slowly and wonders how long it’ll be until she can make Holtz squirm in the same way.

“I’m not worried about it,” Holtz says with a shrug. “Even if it never does--”

“I want to make you feel good.”

“You already do, baby.”

“It’s not the same.”

Holtz hesitates before explaining, “Well, don’t get me wrong. I love touching you--but I’ve never been a real big fan of the reciprocation.”

“What?” Erin watches Holtz get up and follows soon after. She has to shower soon to avoid being late, but she doesn’t want to abandon this conversation. “I don’t understand.”

“I have this thing about touching.”

“Are you serious?”

Holtz looks minutely uncomfortable, and Erin quickly thinks over all their previous interactions. If Holtz is being honest, then Erin feels horrible for her behavior. Throat tight, she lifts a hand, takes a step forward, and freezes.

Holtz smiles at her. “It’s really not such a big deal. I would have told you if I didn’t like something.”

“Cuddling?”

“Acceptable, with you. You just have to trust me on this, okay? Even before I died, I wasn’t so hot on having people all up in my grill.”

“You flirt so much with everyone.”

“I’m outgoing,” Holtz counters. “And innocuous touches are comforting. Like my special high fives with Abby, or the piggyback rides from Patty.”

“I still can’t believe you talked her into that.”

“The point is I’m totally down with maintaining my own boundaries and deciding what’s good for me. I don’t want you to get bent all out of shape over this. That’s why I didn’t mention it at first.” Holtz hands her a towel. “Go shower. We’ll talk more about it later, if you want to.”

“I haven’t upset you, have I? At any time?”

“No.”

“And you’ll tell me if I ever do?”

“Yes.”

Erin accepts the towel and heads for the shower, her head buzzing with too many thoughts. She stands under the spray of water and decides that no matter what she thinks, she’s going to respect Holtz; if Holtz doesn’t want to be touched intimately, then she won’t force the issue. Part of her worries that it’s her that Holtz doesn’t want to be touched by, but she quashes that thought as quickly as she can.

0-0-0

“Thanks for having us,” she says, kissing her mom’s cheek.

Catherine returns the affection with a small smile. “Of course, honey. We just want to be a part of your life.”

Holtzmann swaggers in, her hand extended. When Catherine pulls her in for a hug instead of the offered handshake, Erin spots a bit of tension in the straight line of Holtz’s lips. Before that morning’s revelation, she might have never noticed, but Holtzmann’s discomfort is painfully obvious now.

“Nice to see you, Mrs. G.”

“Call me Catherine.”

“Alrighty,” Holtz replies agreeably. She glances in the living room and cocks her head. “Where’s the mirror?”

“We know it’s not haunted anymore,” Mr. Gilbert says, entering from the kitchen with a rag tossed over his shoulder, “but it was just too weird. It’s up in the attic now. Why?”

“We were hoping to get a look at it.”

“Science,” Holtz adds.

“You girls can go on up and take a look if you want. Dinner’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”

“We won’t be that long.” 

Erin grabs Holtz’s hand and leads her to the pull-down stairs in the hallway by her bedroom door. One at a time, they clamber up in the dark and dusty space, and Erin flips the light switch. Even with the light on, the area is dim. The mirror leans against a beam, a blanket tossed haphazardly over the glass. Holtz removes the blanket with dramatic flair and pretends to be taunting a bull while Erin approaches.

“So, what are we looking for, exactly?”

“If there’s anything special. Maybe a marking to tell us where it’s from, or to explain how it came to be haunted. Finding out the Baron’s name or origin would be cool, too.” Holtz bends low to examine the intricate frame. “Some sort of clue that’ll help me understand how to haunt an object.”

“We could see if mom and dad will let us take it back to the firehouse. You could probably run a few tests on it there.”

“Fantastico.”

Holtz places her palm flat against the mirror’s surface and frowns as her reflection wavers. She’s fairly opaque, but at times, she’s more translucent than others. Erin wishes she could help, but all she can do is stand off to the side and let Holtz deal with being a ghost. After all, she has no idea how it feels.

0-0-0

“Really, it’s a funny story,” Holtz says, toying with her spoon. “I got shocked by a part while I was holding a soldering gun too close to a tank of propane. Also, I had a lot of flammable materials around.”

“I don’t see how that’s funny.” Erin frowns down at her plate.

Catherine clears her throat. “Maybe you had to be there?”

“Oh, no. It wasn’t funny to be there. It’s just funny now, looking back. Time heals all wounds.”

“I was just saying the same thing,” Richard states. “Back when I tore my ACL playing tennis.”

“Very similar experiences.”

He laughs and nods. “Exactly the same, really.”

Holtz leans closer. “Do you still play tennis, sir?”

“Not as much. The missus doesn’t like it--thinks I’ll get hurt again.”

Tsking, Holtz glances at Catherine. “With your permission, ma’am, I’d love to have a game with him someday.”

Catherine flushes. “I’m not his keeper…”

“Erin’s mine,” Holtz jokes. Erin’s chokes on her bite of food, even as the rest of the table laughs.


	25. Chapter 25

“I’m not really her keeper.” Erin scrubs a pot furiously, not necessarily to clean off the grime but to keep her hands busy. Her father has always been great at noting her nervous fidgets, and she just knows he’ll see right through her antics this evening. Still, not doing something would just make her talk more, so she continues scrubbing.

“We know,” he replies, touching her shoulder as he reaches for another dish to dry. “She seems lovely.”

She rinses the pot and sets it aside. Her hands tremble, so she brushes them against her slacks. That her parents like Holtzmann is overwhelming, as she expected more of a fight from them. Holtz is, after all, dead and a woman.

“She is.”

Richard clears his throat. “Honey, I know we may have--responded incorrectly years ago.”

“In which instance?” she asks, before she can tamp down on her tongue. He looks wounded, and she feels terrible.

“Well, the incident with Mrs. Barnard, to begin with. But when you came out to us, as well.” He hesitates and then adds, “When you lost your job.”

“Thanks for the acknowledgement.”

“What I’m trying to say is that we’re sorry.”

Erin listens to the distant tinkling of her mother’s laughter and tightens her jaw. She feels angry that she’s supposed to accept their change of heart without question--like a simple conversation will make up for years of unneeded therapy and constant doubt. She bites the inside of her cheek and smiles at him, which is the best she can do at the moment.

0-0-0

Slamming her fist against her pillow, Erin growls. Fury has built up in her stomach, and it’s either puke it up or beat it out; she’s chosen the latter as doing so is quicker and much more sanitary. She wants to hit something so hard her hands shatter, but she realizes that will only cause injure her--when all she wants is for her parents to know the pain they caused her.

Holtz watches her rampage through her room, silent and curious. She pauses long enough to meet Holtz’s gaze and then storms into the living room to find something new to terrorize. Holtz follows behind and grabs her wrist before she can toss a vase across the room.

“I think that’s enough,” Holtz murmurs. “I’m all for breaking things, but not just for the sake of destruction.”

“Let me go.”

“No.”

Erin whirls about, yanks her hand free, and, for a split second, considers hitting Holtz for getting in her way. She catches the thought before it can take root and slides down to the floor, cradling her fist to her chest.

“It’s not fair.”

“That’s life.” As an afterthought, Holtz says, “And death, really. Y’know, I always thought when I died, I’d get to be with my dad again. Didn’t exactly happen.”

“What did happen?”

“I was just still here. Maybe it’s different for other people--people who don’t stick around as ghosts.”

“Do you think you’ll ever pass on?” Erin worries about her urge to hit Holtzmann. The emotion had been so volatile and pressing, but she doesn’t think she’d be able to forgive herself for the offense, even if Holtz might. While Holtz doesn’t feel pain, Erin refuses to let their relationship suffer because of her hard-to-control reactions to stress. She distracts herself with this line of questioning, hoping that her frustration will bottle back up.

“I don’t know.”

“You said you had unfinished business. What if you complete it?”

Holtz’s hand comes to rest on her belt. “I’m stuck between Dwayne ‘the Rock’ Johnson and a hard place, I guess. If I finish this and become corporeal again, then my business is finished--but then I’d lose what I was seeking, and the business would be unfinished again.”

“What?”

“If Pinocchio says he’s lying, what happens to his nose?”

“Is that really what your unfinished business is? Completing that belt?”

“That’s all I wanted right up until I died.” Holtz shrugs. “I mean, maybe I just really wanted to achieve world peace, and that’s why I stuck around, but…”

“So, there’s a very real chance you’ll disappear?”

“There’s also a very real chance you’ll die,” Holtz counters.

“I’m not actively seeking to end my existence. Do you really want to leave?”

For too long, Holtzmann is speechless. She stares down at her hands, curls them, and then flattens them over and over again. Erin waits and waits, but she gets no response. Eventually, she stands and goes to bed. Holtzmann doesn’t join her until after she’s fallen asleep.

0-0-0

Although they have no current mission, Patty continues reading countless books on local legends and history. Erin is always impressed by her gumption and surprised that she doesn’t pursue a degree higher than a Bachelor’s. Patty waves a hand when she questions this and explains that she doesn’t need to pay a hundred thousand dollars for someone to validate her intelligence. Erin blushes at the statement, realizing how her Ph.D. must look.

“Not that I think that about you,” Patty says quickly, her eyes leaping from the book to Erin’s face. “You and Abby are great.”

They sit in the firehouse on the second floor, which used to house the temporary quarters for on-duty firefighters. Now, there are a few bunks in case they need to crash there, and the kitchen’s utilities have been upgraded from a burned out stove top to a fully functioning oven. Abby’s taken to baking during slow times, and Erin can smell something chocolatey in the air.

“No, you’re right. Most higher education is smart people trying to prove to other smart people that they are smart people. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“Do you think that’s how Holtz did it?”

Erin frowns and averts her eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Ah-hah,” Patty cries, “I knew there was something up. What happened?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Usually, you won’t shut up about her. Now, you won’t say more than three words. Tell me.”

“I asked her if she wanted to pass on. She didn’t answer me.”

Patty inserts a bookmark and sets her book aside. “Why’d you ask that?”

“We were talking about her finishing the belt, which is what she thinks is tying her to this plane. Once the belt is done, she might be able to pass on. I don’t want that, but it seemed like she did. Does.”

“Baby, Holtz is trapped between two planes of existence right now. Don’t you think that might be a strain?”

Erin grimaces. “She says she’s in love with me, but if that were true, why would she want to leave?”

“Love is powerful, but it’s not everything.”

“Shouldn’t it be enough?”

Patty shrugs. “I don’t know much about how things should be. If you want to know how things were, you hit me up, though.”

“I will,” Erin says, turning her attention to her cuticles. She wonders if Holtzmann loves her enough to stay. She wonders if anyone does.


	26. Chapter 26

Holtz doesn’t say much for the next few days. She comes to the firehouse and sits with her equipment, speaking only when someone asks her a direct question. Although the belt helps her manifest physically, she seems more translucent than normal--Erin admits to herself that she might be projecting her own doubts, however.

Abby is the first to voice her frustration with the awkward tension pervading the firehouse. She stalks around the lab, stating with overbearing sarcasm how incredibly nice and pleasant things have become. Erin is flustered, hating that she’s part of the problem. She’s always been part of the problem, despite how badly she wants to please other people. Still, she’s not sure how to mend the rift between herself and Holtzmann, so she dips her head closer to her work and pretends like she can’t hear Abby’s very loud proclamations.

She can’t ignore the visit from the mayor’s assistant, though. Ms. Lynch strides into the firehouse one morning, singing their praises in one breath and cautioning them about being too visible with their work the next. To be honest, Erin’s always gotten mixed messages from the mayor’s office, and Ms. Lynch never provides any clarity. They’re both supposed to to keep up the good work but also not tell anyone about the good work, which feels so contrary to Erin’s very nature. Good work, especially academic work, ought to be shared, so that others can learn and build on top of what has already been discovered.

But she’s glad to have funding and to have someone official validate their efforts, so she doesn’t complain. She stands and shakes Ms. Lynch’s hand and provides a few too many appreciative statements. Ms. Lynch doesn’t listen to her, however; Ms. Lynch spots Holtzmann tinkering away and crosses the room.

“And you are?”

Holtz lifts her head and shoots Erin a curious glance. Erin clears her throat and says, “Ms. Lynch, this is Holtz, our engineer. Holtz, this is the mayor’s assistant, Ms. Lynch.”

Holtz puts down her screwdriver and extends a hand covered in grease. Ms. Lynch peers at the dirty appendage and visibly repels backward. “We don’t seem to have you on the financial records, Ms. Holtz.”

“I’m a volunteer.”

Lynch turns to Erin and cocks her head. “I didn’t know we were allowing people to join your operation, even as volunteers. This is straying awfully close to letting the cat out of the bag again--”

“Oh, no.” Erin shakes her head and draws Ms. Lynch away from Holtz. “No, we’re not doing that. I mean, the cat is already out of the bag, and it’s more like we’re trying to keep the cat in a cat carrier, but the cat doesn’t really want to be in there, and it’s screaming a lot, so people notice--”

Lynch holds her fingers to Erin’s lips. “Where is she from? Can she be trusted?”

“She can be trusted,” Erin says, but her voice wavers. She thinks about Holtz’s desire to pass on and the reticence between them, and the tremor in her words reflects her inner uncertainty.

“And what’s with that belt she wears?”

“It’s a fashion thing.” Abby butts in, drying her hands on a towel as she draws nearer. “Sorry I wasn’t there to greet you. I was baking.”

“Oh, I see.”

“Would you like a cookie?”

“No.” Ms. Lynch stands a little taller. “I’m here to oversee your operation and determine whether funds are being used appropriately.”

“No offense, but some bureaucrat can’t just walk in here and understand what we’re doing.” Abby tilts her head back, and Erin understands the struggle. She, too, has faced the battle to get money from people who simply do not comprehend what she’s doing or why she’s doing it.

“I have a Master’s in Public Health,” Lynch replies, meeting Abby’s gaze fiercely. “I may not understand the minutiae, but I’m not as stupid as you think.”

Blustering, Abby huffs. “Fine. But ask if you have questions. Don’t just make assumptions.”

Seeing that the two of them will get along supremely well, Erin tags along while Abby guides Lynch around the firehouse. She circumvents two outright arguments and hides a few scorch marks from view. The tour successfully distracts Lynch from Holtzmann, who does her best to stay out of the way. At the end, however, Lynch glances toward Holtzmann’s work station.

“I’ll require a full rundown of your volunteer. In the future, both volunteers and new hires will need to meet with me.”

“You don’t get to--”

“If you accept our money,” Lynch interrupts, “then you work for us, which gives us a right to oversee and exercise control over this operation.”

Erin watches Lynch leave with a heavy heart. Abby grips her shoulder tightly and promises that they’ll think of something, but Erin isn’t so sure. Maybe Holtz should just move--it’ll save them all the heartache if and when the mayor’s office decides the team dedicated to ghostbusting shouldn’t have a ghost on the premises.

0-0-0

Holtz lingers in the doorway to the bedroom. She traces the frame and waits while Erin changes into pajamas. Finally, when the silence is too thick, she says, “Can we stop?”

Erin wants to be petulant, but her desire to work through her feelings is more pressing. “I need to know.”

“Know?”

“Why would you want to move on? Am I not good enough for you? Is that it?”

Holtz steps closer, her hands raised. “That’s not it at all.”

“Then why?”

“Because sooner or later you’re going to want those things you mentioned before. To get married. To have kids. To have a real, recognized relationship.” Holtz does her best to maintain eye contact, although her gaze flicks back and forth nervously. “And I’m not going to stick around and watch that happen. I need to get as close as I can to finishing my business, so that when you’re ready for what you need, I can let you go.”

Erin blinks and gapes. “But--”

“And I saw what happened at the station today. Nobody can know about me.” Holtz grimaces, digging her nail into the paint of the frame. “What kind of life is that for you?”

“I don’t…” Erin peters out, rubs her cheeks furiously to dispel any tears, and then moves forward to grab Holtz’s wrists. “I don’t care, okay?”

“Of course you do.” Holtz pulls back. “You need validation. It’s okay. That’s just who you are.”

“The only people who need to validate this relationship are us,” Erin argues. She feels like everything is falling down around her. “I don’t care that we’ll never get married. I don’t care if I adopt a child someday, and you’re ghost dad, or whatever you want to call yourself. I don’t care if I never adopt a child. I don’t care, just as long as I have you.”

Holtz kisses her, and she wishes that she could glean more comfort from the affection than she does. This conversation has left her unsettled, and Holtz’s lack of a verbal response sits with her long after they’ve gone to bed.


	27. Chapter 27

Patty compiles a list of everything she knows about Holtzmann and places it gingerly in front of Erin, who ignores the offering for several minutes. Finally, when she can put it off no longer, she tugs the sheet closer and glances through the listing. Holtzmann is so much more than a simple statement of generic facts--name, birthday, origin, ancestry, and date of death--and Erin is worried that the mayor’s assistant will not understand, mirroring Abby’s earlier anxiety.

She nods stiffly, and Patty says that she’ll run it to the mayor’s office later that afternoon. Erin acknowledges this quietly before returning to staring at her equations. She sits there, doing nothing, until Patty leaves three hours later to run the errand. After a few seconds of hesitation, she gets to her feet and heads to the second floor, where she knows she’ll find Holtz and Abby doing something insane.

“You really think that’s possible?”

Erin watches Holtz gesture to a scribbled design and enthusiastically answer, “It’s one hundred and ten percent possible.”

“Probable?”

“Well… that’s a lower percentage. Maybe just one hundred and nine percent.”

She remains in the shadows and feels like this moment is the end of an important chapter in her life. They look so happy arguing about logistics that she can’t bring herself to interrupt. She returns downstairs and determines that she has two real options. The first is that she can let the mayor’s assistant interfere with her life and work. The second option requires more effort. If she wants this--if she wants Holtzmann--she needs to dig her heels in and fight back.

0-0-0

Erin corners Abby around lunchtime. Abby pauses in eating a tasty looking sandwich and questions why, exactly, Erin has shut the door and gotten all up in her grill. Erin paces back and forth for a moment before saying, “Abby, I need the biggest favor.”

Abby stares at her, curious and suspicious. “Yeah?”

“I need you to talk to Lynch.”

“We don’t exactly have a good relationship--”

“You know there’s a thin line between love and hate…”

“And between genius and insanity,” Abby counters.

“Right. But this is for Holtz.” Abby grimaces, and Erin knows she’s won. She’s amazed that Holtz has garnered such loyalty in such a short period of time--then again, she knows that Holtz’s unique perspective and enthusiastic energy are quite endearing. “If you can get friendly with her, get her to understand how important it is to keep Holtz’s secret…?”

“Are you asking me to seduce her?”

“What? No!”

Abby sighs and folds her arms over her chest. With a faraway look in her eyes, she says, “I can tell, that woman would be a spitfire in bed, and then the next morning, she’d be all, ‘We can’t tell anyone about this. Nobody can ever know.’ Y’now, all that bull shit about how people’s minds can’t handle everything.”

Erin titters. “Thank you, Abby.”

“You’re damn welcome,” Abby replies, slinging an arm around Erin’s shoulders.

0-0-0

Upstairs, Holtz puts the final touches on the newest version of her sticky trap. After some careful consideration, a few weeks of arguing over logistics, and several failed prototypes, she’s got one that ought to work. Erin is proud when Holtz marches over and drops the device on her desk.

“Ready for a field test!”

Erin grabs her hand and kisses her knuckles. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“I’ve been thinking.” Erin releases her grip and stands so she and Holtz are all but eye-to-eye. Holtz is only an inch or so shorter, so Erin doesn’t have to strain in either direction to maintain eye contact. “Maybe you want an escape plan. That’s fine. I’m not going to tell you not to.”

“Erin--”

“The thing is I need you to know that I’m in this for as long as you’ll stay. Is this exactly what I wanted when I was a child? Probably not. But I also didn’t know what was possible. When I was five, I also thought it was possible for the little boy across the street to be a dinosaur when he grew up.”

“What kind?”

“I think a tyrannosaurus rex. I tried to tell him that the t-rex was not the best choice in terms of navigating the world in its current state, but he just kept prowling around the yard with his elbows tucked to his side and his hands extended.”

“Yeah, a velociraptor would be much better suited to urban living.”

Erin shakes her head. “Stop getting me off topic.”

“Sorry. Defense mechanism. Scary feelings, incoming.”

“Holtzmann--Jillian. I just… I was serious when I told you that I didn’t care, but I realized that I probably didn’t convince you. I want to do a better job right now.”

“You definitely convinced me.”

Erin stares until Holtzman sighs and shrugs. “Look, until very recently, I thought I’d get my tenure at Columbia, perhaps meet someone and get married, and then have children--just like I thought I was supposed. I’d do it, too, because that’s what women do, right? Two point five children, a house with a picket fence--”

“A hot pool boy to ogle while your husband is at work.”

“I always assumed he’d be the gardener,” Erin riposts.

“Fair enough.” Holtz shifts from foot to foot. “Sorry, for changing the subject again. This is a lot. For me. I mean.”

“It’s a lot for me, too.”

“What about the mayor and his lackey?”

“I don’t think she’d appreciate being called that, but I’m having Abby talk to her.”

“Abby?” Holtz thinks for a second and adds, “Oh, I see. You saw the raw sexual magnetism between them, too?”

“What? Why does everyone think that?”

“You really are blind, Gilbert. Do you remember how long it took you to realize I was haunting your apartment?”

Erin flushes. “Well, the worst thing you did was go through my underwear. It took a while for me to realize that I wasn’t just leaving the drawer open.”

“Ah, yes. Those were simpler times.”

“So?” Erin waits nervously as Holtz stares up at the ceiling. When Holtz doesn’t reply right away, she continues, “Are you willing to stick around with me?”

“Of course,” Holtz says quietly. “As long as you want me to.”

“You realize that’ll be a long time, right?”

“I’ve heard that before,” Holtz whispers, but before Erin can address it, she laughs and grabs Erin’s hands. “Now, let’s go home. Abby might want to bring Ms. Lynch back for a tour that’s a little more personal and private, if you get what I mean. Wink.”

“Did you just…” Erin sputters with helpless laughter. Holtz’s exaggerated wink, accompanied by the word, is just enough to set her off and release the nervous anxiety that’s been bottled up since that morning. Holtz links their arms and skips toward the pole down to the first floor.


	28. Chapter 28

A few days later, they enter the firehouse together. Holtz is midway through a nonsensical anecdote about her time in graduate school when Erin spots Lynch leaning against Abby’s desk; Erin elbows Holtz sharply in the ribs and points, and Holtz immediately bites her tongue. Abby waves them over.

“Jenn wants to talk to Holtzmann.”

“Jenn?” Erin eyes how closely Lynch and Abby are positioned and wonders what she encouraged into existence. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Lynch.”

“Just Jenn is fine.”

“Jenn it is,” Holtz proclaims, extending her hand. “As you already know, you can call me Holtz.”

They shake, and Jenn smiles. “I read your file, Holtz. You’re quite impressive.”

Holtz wiggles her shoulders and stands a little taller. “Can’t say I haven’t heard that before.”

“Don’t encourage her,” Abby jokes. “Her ego barely fits in the door as it is.”

“Oh, please. My ego is as dead as I am.”

Jenn’s brows lift up her forehead. “So, that part wasn’t an exaggeration. You really are deceased?”

“A-yup.” Holtz places a hand on her belt and grins. “All it took was a little mad science to gimme a second shot at scoring with this babe.”

Erin grunts as Holtz tugs her close. “She’s just being funny. It was just regular science.”

“I’m interested in hearing how this came to be.”

“It’s a long story,” Erin replies quickly. She doesn’t want to get into the details with a practical stranger. Thankfully, Holtz seems to understand and doesn’t say anything else. Giving Jenn just the necessary details, Erin explains how the belt works--highlighting that it only works given Holtz’s status as an interactive, thinking entity--and describes some of the troubles they’ve faced so far.

“What’s next?”

Holtz looks to Erin, who gives permission with a curt head nod. “I’m currently haunting Dr. Gilbert’s apartment. The next step is transferring my haunting to a portable object.”

“Do you require anything additional to aid in this?”

Erin hesitates; if the mayor’s office is interested in helping, then there must be something they think is valuable in this research. She doesn’t want to accept their help if it means that they’ll try to replicate the belt.

Jenn seems to sense her trepidation and lifts a hand. “We expect nothing except an increase in your effectiveness. Abby tells me that there’s potential here to limit damage to public and personal property.”

“If we could have access to any and all information on cursed or haunted objects, that would be ideal,” Erin states, hoping this won’t come back and bite her in the butt. They have access to her parents’ mirror, but the more they can study, the better off they’ll be.

0-0-0

They sit around the table upstairs with boxes of chinese food open and scattered. Erin savors the spicy sweetness of her orange chicken before digging a fork into a pile of fried rice. She notes that Holtz is staring with envy openly coloring her cheeks. Although she can’t do anything about this, she slows down and pretends like this isn’t as tasty as it looks.

“What were you like in high school?” Patty munches through a crab rangoon and eyes Holtz.

“Oh, you know. The average sort of nerd.”

“I have a hard time believing that any part of you is average,” Patty retorts. “So, come on. Spill.”

“I was captain of the volleyball team, and the chess team.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” Holtz says, eyes fixated on the fried rice. “We won state--volleyball, not chess. I was a lot better at hitting the ball than thinking out long-term strategy, it turns out.”

“So you were popular?” Erin can’t keep the surprise from her voice. She’s dating a jock, she thinks with a laugh--if only her high school self could see her now.

“Nah. I tried to be at first, but it wasn’t my scene. I got invited to a party once, and only once. That might have been because I accidentally blew the keg up that first time.”

“You blew up the keg.”

“The cops showed up at the door, and I panicked. I didn’t want underage drinking on my record, so I got rid of the evidence.” Holtz grins. “It was amazing. But, yeah. Never invited again. I had one friend--Brian--but he only hung around because our moms were friends. I spent most of my time alone, reading and inventing and getting into trouble. Did you know that some people get upset when you raid their trash?”

Patty snorts. “I did know that.”

“After a while, I started skipping classes. I still kept my grades up, so nobody cared, and I was weird enough that nobody missed me. I went to the local community college and hung out in the library.”

“Sounds like me,” Erin says. “Except the part about nobody caring. My parents were furious.”

“I was, too,” Abby adds.

“But it was the best way to get away from the bullying.”

“I protected you, too.”

Erin grips Abby’s arm and squeezes gently. “I know. And I was so happy and grateful. But you couldn’t be around all the time. I still got jammed into lockers and tripped when you were in class.”

“Well, that shit isn’t going to go down anymore,” Holtz states, puffing her chest out. “Anyone comes at you has to come at me.”

“And me,” Abby puts in, and Patty quickly throws her lot in as well.

“I don’t think I’m the one most at risk anymore, guys.”

All eyes turn to Holtz, who throws her hands up and shakes her head. “I can handle myself.”

“We still have your back.” Patty slaps Holtz’s shoulder, nearly knocking Holtz aside. “We’re a team. All of us.”

Holtz grins, and Erin feels a bit calmer now that she knows she’s not alone in protecting Holtz from anyone who might try to stop or hurt her.

0-0-0

“Are you ready to go?” Erin waits by the front door, a bag slung over her shoulder. She’s finally making progress on her calculations, which she brought home to study the night before. The papers aren’t too heavy, but she would like to get to the firehouse sooner rather than later.

“Almost,” Holtz calls. “Just gotta do one thing.”

“Well, hurry up.”

Holtz dashes out a few minutes later, her hair cascading down her shoulders. “I deem this test successful.”

Erin stares, mouth agape. “Your hair--”

“I thought I should be able to mess with it, like I mess with my clothing. I was right. You like?”

“Yes,” is all Erin can manage.

Holtzmann laughs and tugs her toward the door. “Weren’t we in a hurry?”

“Yes.”

“Cat got your tongue?”

“Yes.” Erin blinks rapidly and turns away from the sight of Holtz with her hair down. “Let’s get going.”

“Whatever you say, boss lady.”


	29. Chapter 29

“It’s just weird.” 

Abby dips her fry in a pile of ketchup and shakes her head. Erin hasn’t seen her friend this flummoxed since their freshman year of college, when two boys fought over who would take her to a frat party. It was quite the turnaround from high school, and Abby had ended up rejecting them both to hang out with Erin. Erin remembers how that felt--to finally be someone’s first choice.

“What is?”

“She’s totally fine keeping things casual. Like, if she wants to have sex, she sends a text, and I can do the same. We don’t have to see each other in between, if we don’t want to.”

Erin takes a bite of her sandwich while Abby talks, happy that her friend has finally found someone else who takes the whole no-strings-attached thing seriously. Abby has never, at least in their time together, expressed an interest in a romantic relationship, and Erin knows she gets sick of people pushing for more when they get sexually involved. Kevin is a prime example, although she’s not sure how he justifies wanting a relationship with Abby when he still rambles on about his perfect boyfriend from moment to moment.

“Oh, he told me all about how Franklin is always in other countries. He’s an international model, did you know?” Abby laughs. “I’m almost half-certain Franklin doesn’t honestly exist.”

“Would Kevin really lie?”

“Er, we both know Kevin’s grasp on reality is startlingly weak. For all we know, he had a conversation with a real man named Franklin, had a fling or something, and then assumed they were together.”

Erin jams her sandwich in her mouth to keep from laughing too loudly. “But Jenn is really cool with the way you need things to be?”

“Apparently, she’s aromantic, too. We had a whole conversation about it. We have a good time together, and that’s all either of us wants.”

“So, you think she can be trusted?”

Abby demolishes the last of her fries and wipes her lips with a napkin. “Y’know, I don’t know, yet. I’d like to think so, but it’s too early to say.”

0-0-0

When Abby and Erin return to the firehouse, they find Patty and Holtzmann poring over a giant book that looks older than all of them. Patty snaps when Holtzmann turns a page too quickly, stating that the library loans her special books because they know she’ll be extra careful--and she is not risking her privileges to get through the book more quickly.

Holtzmann pulls a face. “Arright.”

“Don’t do that, man.” Patty knocks her shoulder. “I’m doing this as a favor. Seriously.”

“What are you doing?” Abby plops down next to the duo and peers at the book. “And which one of you speaks German?”

“I do,” Patty replies. “Not fluently, but I took it as my language requirement in college. We’re not looking to read the whole thing--just see if we can find a name.”

“You figured out the mystery of the mirror?”

“Sorta.” Holtzmann spins in her chair and scoots to where the mirror rests atop a table. She gestures to a mark that’s not visible from too far away. “We found a family crest etched into the wood.”

“That’s a good start.” Erin crosses the room and peers at the crest, which is ornate and tiny.

“Patty didn’t recognize it, but she had the brilliant idea to hit up the library. I mean, who would have thought?”

Patty rolls her eyes. “Sometimes I think you science freaks forget how the rest of us find information.”

“I love the library,” Erin replies defensively. She’ll never admit it outloud, but they have a fantastic selection of trashy romance novels, and she doesn’t feel bad borrowing them--at least not as badly as she’d feel if she spent her limited paycheck on them.

“Well, good. Anyway, we’re still looking for a match, but from what I can tell, the Baron is from somewhere in what’s currently southern Germany, based on the features of the crest. Give me a few days, and I’ll know for sure what family owned the mirror originally.”

Holtz raps her knuckles on the mirror’s glass. “Until then, I’m going to keep testing this baby every way I know how.”

“Don’t break it.”

“I won’t! At least, not on purpose.”

Erin sighs, knowing that this is the best promise she’ll get out of Holtzmann, whose enthusiasm often outshines her self-control. She retires to her work area and examines her whiteboard. She wonders if there truly are two planes, with a ghostly sort of purgatory between, or if Holtz was right before in positing that maybe there’s no afterlife, no secondary plane of existence. The thought worries her because although Holtz is going to stick around, there’s a possibility that Holtz will someday move on--and if there’s nothing beyond this realm of existence, that means Holtz will disappear forever.

Erin is not a religious person. She remembers her parents taking her to church a few times when she was a very small child, and she was always interested in asking about how, why, and where God existed, to the point that the Sunday school teacher had politely asked her parents not to bring her anymore because she was confusing the other children. From that point forward, her parents let her explore the concept of religion in a less strict fashion, and she decided early on that going to church was not for her.

Instead, she chooses to let science be her guide and her moral compass. In doing this project, however, she’s researched a few different ideas regarding the afterlife, and it’s the Christian idea of Heaven that best fit her needs. She likes the thought that when she dies, there’s a chance she’ll reunite with those she loves--that she’ll someday share the same form of existence as Holtzmann.

“You look serious.” Holtz hops on the desk and kicks her heels against the drawers. “Think you’re ready to write your paper?”

“I don’t know. The math is there, but… I just don’t know what I believe anymore.”

“I feel that.”

Erin sets a hand on Holtz’s thigh. “I was just thinking about what comes after.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you ever think about it?”

“A lot,” Holtz admits. “It doesn’t get any easier when you die. Sorta harder, y’know? I’m closer to the Great Mystery of the Great Beyond than you are.”

“Not as long as you stick around and wear that belt.”

Holtz smiles down at her. “I plan on it.”

“Good.”

“The sooner we get my haunting transferred, the better. I can’t wait to juice this baby up and really feel the world again.”

“I can’t wait for that, either.” Erin turns her attention back to her whiteboard. She’d much rather Holtzmann was more physical than ethereal because that was farther from the unknown--and Erin really hated the unknown.


	30. Chapter 30

“Archduke Wolfgang von Metz,” Patty proclaims, turning the book to show the others her discovery. The man’s portrait is dark and foreboding, and there’s no denying the likeness to the ghost they captured at Erin’s childhood home. He’s tall, dressed in finely embroidered clothing, and holding a saber. What’s more, the mirror is depicted in the background, further substantiating the fact that this Archduke is their Baron.

Erin grasps the book and peers at the text beneath the picture. Unfortunately, the words are in German, and she doesn’t understand anything. This frustrates her; she’s used to innately understand everything she comes across, from particle physics to calculus. She’d had a rough time in graduate school, having coasted through both high school and college without having to study--and she supposes that this book is yet another subject that she needs help to comprehend.

“What do we know about him?”

“Right now? Just that he’s some old Germanic royalty.” Patty shrugs. “My German is a little rusty, but at least we have his name. I’ll start doing some research into him, and I’ll see what’s out there.”

Holtz sits quietly, her eyes trained on the portrait. She drums her fingers against the table throughout the conversation, then leaps to her feet and stalks away without a word. Erin watches her go, confused but not entirely surprised. They’re getting closer to an answer, but they have no idea if it’s going to help with Holtz’s current investigation. A name and a history is interesting information--but unless that information miraculously includes how the Archduke came to haunt an old mirror, they still have a lot of work to do.

0-0-0

A week later, Jenn shows up with five boxes of files and three carefully contained objects. She loudly asserts that these are not to be toyed with before grabbing Abby’s arm and hurrying to another room for a private word. Erin decides to ask more about that later but chooses to yank the closest box open. The first file she pulls out is about a doll. She shivers, hating the very idea. She had dolls as a child, but she refused to sleep with them on display.

Dolls are creepy enough alone, she thinks, and a ghost just takes a horrible thing and makes it worse.

“Spooky,” Holtz murmurs over her shoulder.

Erin isn’t sure if Holtz is being sarcastic and bristles a bit at the implication that a possessed doll might not be the creepiest thing ever. “It is, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know. I loved Chucky when I was a kid.”

“Are you serious? Your parents let you watch that?”

“They were busy, and I was alone a lot.” Holtz shrugs. “I think they were just glad I wasn’t causing problems. Better a scary movie and a few nightmares than accidentally setting the neighbor’s trash can on fire.”

“You did that?”

“Just once or twice.” Holtz grins.

Erin shakes her head and fights to keep Holtz’s infectious smile from spreading to her. She shouldn’t encourage Holtz’s destructive capabilities--yet, she smiles anyway when she meets Holtz’s gaze. She can’t help it. Holtzmann just has a way of chasing away her doubts and fears and filling the empty space with lightness. 

“This is intense,” Patty comments, digging through the boxes. Erin imagines this must feel a bit like Christmas to the historian; it’s not very often that regular people get their hands on a treasure trove of documents like this, after all. “Like, who would have thought the mayor’s office would have access to all this primo information?”

“Apparently, the mayor is into a lot more shit than we ever expected,” Holtz replies. “I bet we could have asked for information on aliens, and we’d get truckloads more than this.”

“You into aliens?”

“The truth is out there. I want to believe.” Holtz dives into a folder of her own, and for several hours, there’s nothing but silence and the occasional turn of a page.

0-0-0

Erin sleeps fitfully, tossing to and fro until a hand on her arm rouses her. She blinks through the darkness and focuses on Holtz’s empathetic expression. Pawing at her eyes, she struggles to sit up and then yawns. From the darkness in the room, she deduces that it’s not quite morning yet.

“What time is it?”

“Three thirty-four.”

“Why’d you wake me?”

“You were talking in your sleep. Seemed like a nightmare.”

“Oh.” Erin tries to remember her dreams, but all she can recall is scattered fragments of running and yelling. “What did I say?”

“My name.” Holtz shifts uncomfortably, and Erin eases forward to touch her arm.

Trying to lighten the mood, Erin jokes, “You’ve always said you’re the woman of my dreams. Guess you were right.”

“You sounded scared.”

“It was just a dream.”

Holtz lays back on the bed and lifts her hands toward the ceiling. “I wonder if I’ll ever dream again. I used to have the weirdest ones. That’s where a lot of my inventions came from, y’know?”

“I didn’t know that, no.” Erin curls up against her, tentative until Holtz wraps an arm around her to hold her steady.

“My dad died two years before I did. It wasn’t exactly out of nowhere--cancer, but he’d been in remission for a long time. I slept for a week when it happened because at least in my dreams, he was still with me.”

“Holtz…”

“And then one night, I dreamed that we were on a sinking ship, and all I needed to do was just get him in a life jacket. That’s all I needed to do. Just that life jacket.” Holtz grips her belt and stares unblinking upward. “If he was wearing that jacket, then he wouldn’t be gone. He’d be alive. So, I woke up, and I thought, what if there was something a ghost could wear to make them live again?”

“The belt.”

“Exactly.”

Erin combs her fingers through Holtz’s hair and waits a moment before saying, “Thank you for telling me.”

“You asked before about where my parents are. The truth is that after dad died, I threw myself entirely into making the belt. My mom begged me to just let it go--to let him go--but I didn’t listen. We had a fight.” Holtz grimaces. “We hadn’t spoken in almost a year when I died. I’m--I’m afraid to find her now.”

“I won’t push you,” Erin promises, “but I can look her up, just to see how she’s doing, if you like.”

Holtz nods slowly and closes her eyes. “I’d like that.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy to see you again.”

“I’ve been dead ten years, Erin. I should stay that way.”


	31. Chapter 31

Erin checks the address once more before approaching the small house surrounded by an overgrown yard. Finding Willa Holtzmann hadn’t been terribly hard, as there weren’t too many Holtzmanns who lived in Hell’s Kitchen between 1977 and the late 1990s. Patty had found the most recent address in under ten minutes a few days prior, and Erin had finally built up the courage to go knock on the door.

She approaches the front porch and presses the doorbell. While the chimes sound inside, she gazes at the house’s rough exterior. It’s in bad need of a new paintjob. Erin wonders if Mrs. Holtzmann would be opposed to her coming by sometime to do some maintenance.

The door creaks open, and a small, blonde-haired woman peers out at her. “I’m not interested in buying anything. I’m sorry to waste your time.”

“Are you Willa Holtzmann?”

The woman blinks owlishly and nods. “I am. And you are?”

“I’m Dr. Erin Gilbert. I’m--I was a friend of your daughter.”

“Jillian?”

“Yes.” Erin steps forward and extends her hand. “I’m sorry to just show up without calling first, but I was just hoping to talk to you for a few minutes.”

The door opens wider, and Willa waves her inside. “Of course.”

Erin enters the home and stares at the rows of pictures lining the front hall. She traces her fingers along one of Jillian as a toddler, blonde hair poofing out in all directions, faced smeared red by a half-melted popsicle. Willa smiles sadly at the image and comments, “That’s my favorite.”

“She’s always been this happy, huh?”

Willa cocks her head, and Erin realizes she’s talking about Jillian as if she’s still alive. Thankfully, Willa doesn’t press for details. Instead, she guides Erin to the living room and gets two cups of tea, which Erin can’t refuse.

“What would you like to talk about?”

“I wanted to see how you were doing.” Erin sips the tea--it’s too hot, but she swallows anyway to avoid looking rude.

“I’m getting along.”

“Jillian mentioned that you were a teacher?”

“A substitute now, but yes. I taught for fifty years and retired last year.”

Feeling awkward digging into Willa’s life without explaining why, Erin asks, “Are you happy?”

“I’d say passably. It’s hard to move forward after you lose your husband and child, but it’s been a decade. Time keeps moving, even when we don’t want it to.”

“This might be a weird question, but if you could see Jillian again, what would you tell her?”

Willa’s hands tremble. “I suppose that I’m sorry we fought. Honestly, I let her inventing take her away from me long before it killed her.”

Erin stays another half an hour, drinking tea and asking about Jillian’s childhood. She thanks Willa for the lovely afternoon and leaves the older woman her phone number, stating that Willa can call her for anything in the future. As she returns to the firehouse, she wonders if she could ever convince Holtzmann to visit. She senses that both women could do with a conversation, no matter how difficult.

0-0-0

Holtz screws a bolt into place and then lifts her safety goggles to get a better look at Erin, who hesitates in the doorway. “You saw her?”

“I did.”

“Was she… Is she…” Holtz clears her throat. “She’s good?”

“She’s okay. Lonely, I think, but okay.”

Lowering her goggles, Holtz reinvests herself in her project. Erin can tell from her posture, however, that not all is well. She considers pressing the matter, but Abby and Patty barge in a moment later, and the chance for their conversation is gone.

0-0-0

“Okay, so here’s the deal.” Patty tosses a book onto the center of the work table. “Our buddy Wolfgang was a pretty influential man in his time. According to the records, his family is old school royalty--technically classified as Uradel. Unfortunately, a lot of the information regarding him is long gone, destroyed over the course of both world wars.”

“What do we know?”

“I dug into some of the local legends at the time, so any of this could be true--but most of it is probably exaggerated or flat out untrue. Keep that in mind.”

“Will do.” Holtz salutes.

“He was born into his position, so ostensibly grew up feeling entitled to everyone and everything. His mother died mysteriously when he was a child, and local legends say that he murdered her. There was also a rumor that he was an incredibly vain man and had nearly three dozen mirrors in his castle. If any of his servants ruffled his appearance, he’d have them brought down to his torture chamber.”

“Sounds like a real charming dude. Love to meet him.”

Patty glares at Holtz, who grins shamelessly back. “Anyway, legends has it that someone eventually snuck into the castle and killed him--shoved him into a mirror, cut his throat with a piece of broken glass, and then fled. Problem was, his body was never found.”

“I’ve got that part down. Nobody’s seen the old girl in a while.”

“From what I can tell, his haunting of the mirror was based on his affiliation with the item during his lifetime.”

Holtz slams her hands down and stalks off, leaving Abby, Patty, and Erin staring after her. Erin considers chasing after, but she decides she’d rather get every bit of information out of Patty that she can.

“Is there any correlation with the files Jenn brought by?”

“Thus far, the trend seems to be a strong attachment to an item during life. There are a few items that were purportedly haunted where the spirit was invited into the object by the owner, but those appear to be outliers.”

Erin frowns. “So, my baby tooth is probably not going to work.”

“Probably not. But it couldn’t hurt to officially invite Holtz into it.”

“I’ll try,” Erin replies, but her downtrodden voice belies her tentative optimism.

“This is a totally new area of study, so we really have no idea how any of this works beyond a few untested hypotheses.” Abby sets her hand on Erin’s shoulder. “So, don’t give up yet. There’s an answer out there. We just have to find it.”

Erin smiles as best she can and covers Abby’s hand with hers. She squeezes gently and swivels to make eye contact with Abby. Her childhood friend can always be counted on to be in her corner. “Thanks, guys. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Patty laughs. “Probably get tenure at Columbia.”

“Boring,” Erin counters. “This is much better.”


	32. Chapter 32

The alarm blares, and Erin jumps to her feet moments before she realizes that the sound currently blasting in her ears is not the usual ghost alarm but another sound entirely. It’s late, and they’ve locked up for the night, which means the security alarm must be going off. Covering her ears, she hurries to the first floor and advances on Kevin, who has his fingers tamping down tightly on his eyes.

“What happened?”

“What?”

“Why is the alarm going off?”

“What?”

She understands quickly that he’s not going to provide an adequate answer, so she hurries for the alarm box near the door and presses in the code to cut the noise. Once her hearing returns to normal, she advances on Kevin once more. By now, Abby and Patty have joined her downstairs and are pestering Kevin for answers as well.

“What set off the alarm?”

“What alarm?”

“The one that was just ringing.”

“Oh.” He shrugs. “Someone came in.”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. The alarm went off, and I had to cover my eyes. Super loud, y’know?”

Erin wants to throttle him but takes several deep breaths to restrain herself. “Do you remember what this person looks like?”

“Sort of average.”

“Average.”

“Y’know, hair and eyes. A couple of arms.”

“Kev, we need you to be a bit more specific, buddy.”

Kevin fiddles with a pencil and helplessly bumbles for a better answer. Rather than wait for him to miraculously figure things out, Erin turns to Patty and Abby. They agree to split up and check the building. Erin relocks the front door and sets off to search her designated area. After twenty minutes, they regroup by Kevin’s desk.

“Anybody around?”

“Not that I noticed.”

“Me neither.”

Erin sighs. “Maybe it was just a mistake. Someone thought we were open, came in, and realized their mistake.”

“Erin, it’s ten thirty at night. Who thinks we’re open?”

“Well, we’re ghost hunters. I mean maybe they thought we work primarily at night.”

Abby snorts. “Yeah, okay.”

“Guys,” Patty interrupts. “Y’all didn’t find anybody at all?”

“No,” Erin and Abby reply simultaneously.

“What about Holtzmann?”

Erin hesitates. “She wasn’t on the first floor.”

“Or the second.”

“Could she have gone outside for something?”

“I don’t think so.”

Erin bolts, running throughout the firehouse until her breath comes in short, ragged pants and her lungs are burning. A second and a third recheck confirm that Holtzmann isn’t there. She drops to the ground and sucks in air while Patty and Abby discuss what to do next. The obvious solution is to check Erin’s apartment, but Erin is mildly terrified that they’ll get there, and Holtz will still be missing.

0-0-0

“We shouldn’t worry, yet.” Abby rubs her back soothingly when her apartment is empty. “She could be anywhere. The belt is self-contained. She’ll be fine.”

Erin sits very still and stares at the wall. “Correlation doesn’t prove causation,” she murmurs, “but there is strong reason to believe that Holtz’s disappearance is linked to the break in. We need to figure out who got in.”

Patty nods. “I’ll see if any of the businesses around have security footage they’re willing to share.”

Although there’s plenty to do, Abby and Patty stay at Erin’s apartment all evening. They sit in the living room, drink, and talk--and Erin is glad for the distraction.

0-0-0

Eventually, however, she is alone. She pulls the blankets up to her chin and tries not to feel too lonely. She went most of her life sleeping alone in her bed, so she ought to have no problem with it now. After all, Holtzmann had only been around for a sliver of time, and she’s been alone longer than she’s had Holtzmann. She thinks this over and over, but sleep doesn’t come any easier.

She tosses onto her side and squeezes her eyes shut. Whoever broke in and absconded with Holtzmann is going to face a lot of anger and frustration, she thinks, unless she can get some darn sleep. Exhaustion makes her testy, and she wants to get answers--not fly off the handle and bludgeon a person to death. She rolls onto her other side and slows her breathing.

When she gives up on sleep, she paces to the kitchen and pours herself a glass of water. She leans on the counter and reminds herself over and over again that she isn’t allowed to break down over this. She’s got to keep it together because she won’t do anybody any good--least of all Holtzmann--if she goes off the deep end. She doesn’t want to endure years of therapy again. She doesn’t want Abby and Patty to look at her with pity.

0-0-0

“This isn’t much to go on.” Abby pauses the security footage and sighs. “An average man. I guess Kevin was right.”

“It’s a Christmas miracle,” Patty says.

Erin wrinkles her nose and leans closer. There’s nothing in the image that will help them, and life isn’t like those law enforcement television shows, so there’s no way to enlarge and enhance. All they have is a tiny, blurry image of a man opening their front door. There is something written on his jacket, but the picture quality is too poor to make out the words.

“We could report the break in to the police.”

“No,” Erin states with certainty. “What would we say? A man broke in and stole our ghost?”

“We could say he stole a piece of technology,” Patty reasons. She grips Erin’s shoulder and squeezes, drawing Erin’s eyes to hers. “Girl, we need help. We’re not going to crack this by ourselves.”

Erin nods, giving in. She stares at the image while Patty makes the phone call and wonders who this man is. She’s also curious as to how he knew about Holtz’s existence to the extent that he wanted to kidnap her. When the police show up, her nerves don’t settle; she feels on edge through the process of their questioning. Jenn appears as they leave and draws Abby aside yet again.

This time, Erin doesn’t pay much attention. She sits at her whiteboard, considers her equations, and tries not to think about anything too intensely.


	33. Chapter 33

Erin struggles to get out of bed four mornings later. She and the others have been working day and night on solving their mystery and are no closer to finding their trespasser, even with the help of the police. Abby in particular has voiced concerns about her mental health, but the truth is that she feels fine--she’s got something to do, and so she doesn’t feel helpless. Still, the long hours are killing her regular sleep pattern.

She paws her messy hair from her face and blinks owlishly at the ceiling. After ten minutes of lazing about, she finally gets her legs out of bed and her feet on the floor. She yawns, stands, and then gapes.

Her panty drawer is open.

She lunges under her bed and searches for the Ouija board, which has been gathering dust since the belt started working consistently. Pushing Holtz’s clothing aside, she digs the board out and places the planchette atop. Closing her eyes, she hopes that Holtzmann is around somewhere and capable of moving the device.

“Holtzmann? Are you here?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“Stolen.”

“The belt?”

“Yes.”

Erin wipes at her eyes, hating that relief is making her cry. “Don’t do this to me.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Just took belt.”

A ghostly hand slides along her forearm, and she leans into the touch. “I’m going to fix this. I’ll get your belt back, I promise.”

“New.”

“A new belt? I barely made the old one.” Still, the idea has merit. There were certainly upgrades that need to be made at a very basic level. This may be quicker than hunting down a thief and reclaiming lost property. They’ll have to do that in any event, but having Holtzmann back as soon as possible is essential.

0-0-0

“She’s safe?” Patty grabs her hands and swings her around. “That’s great news.”

She stumbles, not quite able to keep up with Patty’s enthusiasm. “She wants us to make another belt. Shouldn’t be too hard, right? We did it once.”

Patty nods. “And I’ve been doing some research, too, on mechanical engineering. It’s not really my field of interest, mind you, but I can learn quick in a pinch. I bet we can get this new version cranked out in no time.”

“Thanks for being so supportive.” Erin hesitates. “This might seem weird, but I feel like everything’s been about me lately. How have you been doing?”

“Y’know, it’s been rough for a while. My roommate moved out, and I hate living alone.”

Erin nods her understanding--finding an acceptable roommate in New York is difficult, so losing a good one is borderline catastrophic. “Where did he move to?”

“Back in with his parents. He lost his job and couldn’t pay his half of the rent. I offered to pay full until he found something else, but he didn’t want to be like that.” She shrugs. “It’s like, I’ll be paying full anyway unless I find someone else.”

“Someone else to do what?” Abby enters, a bowl of soup in her hands. 

“Move in with me.”

Abby’s brows lift up. “You don’t live far from here, do you?”

“Nah, just a few streets up and over.”

“My lease is up at the end of the month, and I was going to look for something closer than across town…” Abby tilts her head and grins widely. “What do you say?”

“You do your dishes?”

“Yes.”

“You keep tidy?”

“Mostly.” Abby frowns and folds her arms over her chest. “Sometimes I leave fast food boxes out.”

Patty narrows her eyes. “I don’t like mess.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. So…?”

“Fine.” Patty grimaces and extends her hand. “You better not be lying.”

“Scout’s honor,” Abby replies, although when she holds her hand up, the salute is unrecognizable. “Any progress on the intruder?”

“Sort of.” Erin hurriedly fills Abby in and then struggles to stay upright as Abby, too, swings her around.

“That’s fantastic. We were talking before--Holtz and me, I mean--about upgrading the belt. This is a great opportunity to do some serious work on the design.”

“That’s the plan, anyway.” 

Erin digs into the bag slung around her shoulder and pulls out all the documents she has on the belt’s design. The three of them spread everything out on the work table, and Erin begins sketching out the Life Belt 3.0.

0-0-0

She returns home, weary but excited. They’ve made decent progress on the new design--but there’s one thing she’d like to try before they get to building the actual belt for Holtz’s use. She sets up the Ouija board and planchette and then sits down for a conversation. For a few moments, the planchette is still, and she wonders what Holtz gets up to while being noncorporeal.

“Hello.”

“Busy day?”

“No.”

“I miss actually talking to you,” Erin says wistfully. She brushes her fingers against the board and grins as an an invisible hand settles over her wrist. “This is fine, and all, but you’re so restricted.”

“Yes.”

“Well, hopefully we’ll have you back in this plane of existence before long. We’ve come a long way in updating the belt’s design--but I need to know something.”

“Yes.”

“Did you have anything as a child that you were really attached to? Something small?”

“Yes.”

“Something you were pretty strongly emotionally attached to?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

“No laughing.”

“I swear I won’t.”

“Doll.”

“Are you serious?” Erin doesn’t laugh, but she can’t stop from looking appalled. This is her worst dream come true--here she sits, thinking about helping possess a doll. Of all the objects in the world that Holtz could potentially transfer her haunting to, it just had to be a doll. “There’s nothing else?”

“No.”

“Think your mom might still have it?” The planchette doesn’t move. Erin sighs and leans back. “I know your mom is a sore subject, Holtzmann, but if we’re upgrading your belt, we may as well try and get it functional with an item you can haunt. We already tried inviting you into my tooth. The connection’s just not strong enough.”

“Yes.”

“Can I ask her for it? I won’t tell her about your manifestation if you’d prefer she doesn’t know.”

“Yes.”

The grip on her wrist tightens, and she gets the feeling that she’s not the only one suffering through this separation. For a moment, Holtz’s hand corporealizes, just long enough for Erin to grab it and squeeze back. Then, she’s alone in the apartment again. Satisfied, she digs her cell phone out and dials Mrs. Holtzmann’s number. The older woman is confused but grateful for the call and promises to look for Jilly’s doll that evening.


	34. Chapter 34

“Will you tell me something?”

Erin gazes at the doll in Willa’s hands. She’s so close to helping Holtz, and she just needs that doll to run some tests. It’s a simple looking thing, with stringy bright yellow hair, black button eyes, and a stitched on smile. It’s also smaller than she expected, which takes a little bit away from the Horrifying Haunted Object factor. She’d half expected a life-size Barbie doll, but Betsy was only about six inches tall and if not for her floppy fabric composition, she could have been an action figure.

“If I can,” Erin allows, her eyes not leaving Betsy.

Willa wrings her hands around Betsy nervously. “Did she figure something out?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know I may not be a doctor, Dr. Gilbert, but I’m not dumb. Jilly didn’t have friends, least of all a pretty girl like you. If you’re sniffing around, that means there was something in her research that interests you.”

Erin’s cheeks flood red, but she does have an ace up her sleeve. “I could tell you about her, and you could judge if I was her friend that way.”

“No, I know she was an avid journaler. Who’s to say you didn’t find one of her diaries, just in case I got suspicious.”

“I… I didn’t know that about her.” Erin hedges. “Look, Mrs. Holtzmann, I wish I could tell you more, but…”

“What part of her research are you digging into?”

“I’m not. Well, I mean, I am, sort of, but it’s safe, I promise. I know how she died…” Erin swallows hard and steps back. “If you don’t want to give me the doll, that’s fine. I’ll figure something else out.”

“Is she okay?”

The question tempers Erin’s frustration. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“My daughter. I know she was working on a device to help give the deceased a physical form. She was a smart girl--smarter than was good for her--and I’d bet she was close when the accident happened.”

“I can’t… She doesn’t…”

“She doesn’t want me to know.” Mrs. Holtzmann nods. “We didn’t part on the best of terms.”

“That’s what she said.” Erin fidgets and sighs. “I live in the apartment building that was built over the ruins of the old one. She’s haunting my apartment, and she helped me get the belt functioning. It works great--”

“Would you consider trying to get her to come see me?”

“The only problem is someone stole the belt,” Erin concludes.

“Then why do you need the doll?”

“We’ve been investigating how items come to be haunted. The belt’s powers and capabilities are strained by her haunting a physical location--the farther away she gets, the harder the belt has to work. We’re building a new belt as a replacement, but we were hoping to transfer her haunting from the building to the doll, so that she could be more mobile.”

Willa stares down at the doll and hesitantly places it into Erin’s waiting hands. “Help her come back, Dr. Gilbert. Please.”

“I will.”

“And please, if it’s not too much trouble, tell her I love her.”

Erin hugs Betsy to her chest and nods.

0-0-0

Setting Betsy on her bedspread, Erin clears her throat. She isn’t sure exactly how this is supposed to go, so she says tentatively, “Um, you’re welcome to go into Betsy the Doll. To stay. You’re invited. Yes.”

The air around her is perfectly still, and she’s not sure what she should be looking for. Cool hands grip her hips, and a form rubs against her back. “Again,” a quiet voice murmurs in her ear.

With more confidence, she states, “I invite the spirit of Jillian Holtzmann into this doll, Betsy, to have and to haunt as long as her spirit remains.”

Pressure builds around her, and she squeezes her eyes shut. When she was younger, her mother forced her into a dress a little too small, and she still recalls being trapped in that small space and feeling like she couldn’t breathe--this is more intense than that, but thankfully, the moment ends. She gasps in a breath of air and gazes around.

Holtzmann flickers atop the bed. “Easier to haunt a doll than an apartment. More contained.”

“You’re talking?”

“Hell yeah.” Holtzmann lifts a hand and curls it into a fist. “I could def fight some ghosts like this.”

“Do you want to come with me to the firehouse?”

“Um, yeah?” Holtz picks Betsy up, and her form bleeds away. The doll floats into Erin’s hands, and Erin isn’t as scared of the ghost doll as she expected. She tucks Betsy under one arm, grabs her purse, and heads out.

0-0-0

“I think it’s because the doll is smaller,” Erin explains. “In the apartment building, she was probably struggling to manifest at all because she was spread so thin. Betsy, though, is tiny, and so Holtz’s spirit is all bottled in one spot.”

“Watch this.” Holtz disappears and makes Betsy stand and dance across the table. Betsy slumps back down, and Holtz reappears. “Cool, right? I’m going to scare the shit out of some assholes this Halloween.”

“Don’t get too far ahead of yourself,” Abby warns. “I want to run some tests--”

“Later,” Holtz crows. “Don’t you get how great this is?”

“I just don’t want to risk you. What are you going to do if something awful happens to the doll?”

Erin shifts uncomfortably. “Nothing’ll happen to Betsy.”

“In movies, sure, a possessed item can be burned, ripped, destroyed, and so on--but we have no proof that items in reality behave in the same way. We need to test the boundaries without breaking them before we let Holtz do anything dangerous.”

“Lame.”

“No, she’s right.” Erin sighs and nods. “Better to be safe than sorry. I’m not willing to risk your only vessel.”

“I could try to Harry Potter it up,” Holtz offers. “Shatter my very soul into other vessels.”

Patty snorts. “Voldemort had to kill people to do that. I highly doubt you’ve got it in you, baby.”

“I could kill someone,” Holtz grouses. “I just choose not to.”

“I’m sure you could.” Erin lifts her hands to keep the peace. “But let’s all agree that we don’t want anyone killing anyone else, okay?”

“Arright,” Holtz complains, smiling. Patty shakes her head, calls Holtz crazy, and asks if that's the end of the meeting.

Abby clears her throat and announces, “We might have a problem.”

“More than Holtz threatening to turn into a mass murderer?”

“I think I have a lead on who took the first belt.”

Erin sobers. “What?”

“Jenn’s been by a few times. She says that one of her coworkers has been a little too interested in our research lately. He’s got access to our blueprints and our research.”

Erin thinks about the information they recently submitted on Holtz and blanches. “So, he knows all about our resident ghost.”

Holtz drifts closer. "Someone knows I exist? Could explain why he broke in. I am irresistible."

"And incorrigible," Patty adds.


	35. Chapter 35

When tiny cloth hands touch her shoulder, Erin very nearly punches the doll across the room. Getting used to the Holtz doll is going to take some getting used to, she thinks as she sits up and glares at Betsy. At least she knows where Holtz is these days--Betsy dances on the bedspread, her hips gyrating and thrusting. Erin rolls her eyes.

“You woke me up for this?”

The doll falls over so Holtz can manifest. “No, I woke you up because you slept through your alarm and two snoozes. I thought maybe my dancing could arouse you--I mean rouse you.”

Erin tosses her blankets back and scrambles to her feet. “Seriously? Why’d you let me sleep this late to start with?”

“You looked tired.”

“Ugh, we have a meeting with the mayor today, Holtzmann.”

Holtz flickers and fades, and Erin growls at Betsy instead. She can’t wait until Holtz is corporeal again so she can’t just disappear without bearing the brunt of Erin’s frustration. Skipping her morning shower, Erin changes her clothing, pulls her hair into a ponytail, and grabs Betsy. If she hurries, she won’t miss the meeting entirely.

0-0-0

“A break in is a serious breach of confidentiality,” Mayor Bradley says, folding his fingers together and staring across his desk. “We’ve had this discussion before about the--private--nature of your work, have we not?”

“The cat is already out of the bag,” Erin grumbles, just quietly enough that only Abby hears her; the other woman snorts and then hurries to look somber.

“Is this a joke to you, Dr. Yates?”

“Oh, no, Mr. Mayor.” Abby can’t seem to keep the sarcasm from dripping from her tone. “It’s a nervous laugh. Erin, Patty--we’re in trouble with the principal. Watch out. He might call our moms.”

“Don’t call my moms,” Patty interjects, even as Mayor Bradley clutches his temples.

Erin supposes he regrets giving them the idea that they have any power. To save them from losing their funding, she cuts in, “I apologize, Mayor Bradley. We lost a very important piece of technology, despite our security measures, and we’ve taken it fairly hard. I can assure you that we’ve investigated how to better protect our assets.”

Mayor Bradley settles back, sighing. “Ms. Lynch has informed me that the break in was likely caused by someone in my office. I’m going to provide you with a list of names. You need to get this technology back, preferably without attracting the attention of the press.”

Erin shudders at the very thought. “Of course, Mr. Mayor.”

“I’m assigning Ms. Lynch to assist you on this matter.” Mayor Bradley gestures to the door. “Now, get out.”

0-0-0

The explosion shakes the floor and knocks items off of shelves. Erin brushes dust from her shoulders and glares at the doll standing by the now-blackened belt. Although incapable of grinning, Betsy looks pleased with herself.

“You have to be more careful,” Erin snaps. Her rude awakening that morning has left her feeling grouchy and uneasy, and her patience for shenanigans is abbreviated. “What if you caught fire?”

The doll sits down with its back to Erin and lets its head droop down. Erin isn’t fooled by this show of contrition, however. She knows that Holtz is far from adequately chastised. She just doesn’t have the energy to follow through, so she turns back to her laptop and continues typing. Now that her calculations have been formalized, she has little excuse to avoid typing up her thoughts and preparing the document for publication.

It’s been awhile since she’s thought about publishing anything, and the process is still just as stressful now as it was for her as a graduate student. She has a moderate amount of fame--or infamy--now that she’s a Ghostbuster, so she knows her article will be harshly reviewed, analyzed, and critiqued. She loves academia for its constant progression forward, but sometimes, the cutthroat atmosphere is too much for her delicate self-esteem.

The doll clambers into her lap, and she hugs Holtz closer as she types with one hand. For whatever reason, just having the contact with the doll is calming, and she feels better about the state of her life. The new belt will eventually be completed, but until then, she still has a physical connection with Holtz. When Holtz’s ghost materializes on her lap a moment later, she flinches back from the sudden appearance.

“Sorry,” Holtz says without an ounce of regret in her voice.

“I really should expect that by now.”

“You really should.” Holtz kisses her cheek, and she shivers under the cool touch.

“Shouldn’t you be working on the belt.”

“It’s really hard without opposable thumbs.”

“Get Abby to help you.”

“She’s sleeping.”

“Here?” Erin frowns and starts to get up. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. She said that Patty’s kept her up late into the night talking to some girl she met on the internet.”

“That’s dangerous--”

“Erin.” Holtz shakes her head. “I think you were born a grandmother.”

“What?”

“I’ve been dead ten years, and even I know that not everyone on the internet is out to get you.”

Erin flushes. “My parents were protective.”

“Probably for the best.” Holtz leers at her and grins, revealing her teeth. She tugs on Erin’s hair. “Don’t stray from the path, little red, or the big bad wolf’ll get you.”

Erin squeezes the doll because she can’t slap Holtz’s shoulder. “Now who’s the grandma?”

“Technically, I just wear your grandma’s clothes--and I look incredible.”

“You were dead when that song came out. How do you know it?”

Holtz laughs, and the sound echoes around the lab. “Some of us do our best to keep up with pop culture.”

“What’s the point?”

“Not everything in the world is about physics.”

“Well--”

“I wasn’t instigating an argument. I’m just saying.” Holtz brightens. “We could go see a movie, if you wanted. I can’t treat you, obviously, but you could bring Betsy in, and we’d only have to get one ticket anyway.”

“That sounds an awful lot like a date, Ms. Holtzmann.”

“Only if you want it to be,” Holtz teases. She squints one eye in a mockery of a monocle and tips an invisible hat. “I can be a perfect gentleman, I’ll have you know.”

“Fine. We’ll go see a movie, as long as you go work on your belt right now.”

Holtz salutes, fades, and then meanders off in Betsy’s body. Erin smiles as she returns to her work, which she finds much more enjoyable now. The words seem to gush from her fingertips, and she has a much better time concentrating on her thoughts.


	36. Chapter 36

Erin feels ridiculous as she buys one movie ticket with a doll in her arms. The theater employee glances at the doll and then at her, and she gets the feeling this isn’t the weirdest thing he’s seen that week--which is comforting enough that she buys popcorn without blushing and finds a seat at the very back of the theater without loudly announcing the reason she’s carrying a supposedly inanimate object.

She sits at the last row, settles Betsy in her lap, and relaxes. Now, it just looks like she’s at the movies alone, as nobody can see she brought a doll as a date to the season’s biggest romantic comedy. When she was looking for something to go see, this was the only title she remembered from her limited television viewing experiences. Well, there is also a slash-em-up gore fest called Little Slice of Hell, but she isn’t interested in spending fifteen dollars on watching people get fake-dismembered.

“I haven’t been to a movie in ages,” Holtz whispers in her ear.

“What’s it been now? Ten years?”

“Longer.”

Erin smiles, careful to contain her laughter. She has no interest in looking mentally unstable, and she might if she starts cackling ostensibly by herself. For a few hours, she gets to just be Erin Gilbert, rather than a tried and harried ghostbuster; she plans on enjoying herself to the fullest, and Holtzmann seems to be on the same page.

“I can’t believe you bought snacks here.”

“They clearly state you aren’t allowed to bring in outside food or drinks.”

“Everybody does it. Or at least they used to. Do they still? Why am I asking you?”

“Good question.”

“They overcharge for everything.”

“They’re running a business.”

“Oh, come on. Like the employees here get any benefit from the candy sold at the counter.” Holtz fades, and Betsy folds her arms.

“They certainly don’t benefit when people break the rules. How much of a raise do you think any of them get when they don’t sell any refreshments?”

“About as much of one if they sold out,” Holtz responds.

Ghostly fingers tickle Erin’s sides, and she realizes she’s taking their dispute a bit too seriously. She wishes Holtz had her belt already so that she could throw a kernel of overpriced popcorn at the other woman. She settles for tweaking one of Betsy’s eyes, which thankfully doesn’t pop off. As the previews for other movies start to play, Erin watches the screen curiously. As a young woman, she’d loved going to the movies, but now, she rarely has time. Watching the trailers reminds her of how much media she doesn’t consume--and she realizes it’s probably for the best. For every one trailer that looks interesting, there are three that appear to be a waste of time and money.

“That one looks great.”

Erin narrows her eyes. “It was literally a sanitized, modern-day Hamlet made out to be some dramatic romance epic. How could that look good?”

“It didn’t look good. It looked great.”

“We seem to have drastically different standards.”

“Oh, come on. I found where you hide your romance novels.”

The blood drains from Erin’s face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“If you’re ever into it, we could totally roleplay one of them. You could be the naive but optimistic farm girl who’s come to New York City to chase her dreams, and I can be the street-smart hooligan who sweeps you off your feet. Or, you could be a princess, and I could be the pirate. Or--”

“Why am I always the damsel?”

“Because it’s the damsel who gets ravished,” Holtz murmurs, her lips ghosting across Erin’s neck. “Unless you don’t want that…?”

Voice coming out a squeak, Erin says, “I do.”

“Well, there you go.”

“I--I’m just saying that Hamlet is hardly good source material for a romance movie.”

“Why not? It’s got action, murder, intrigue…”

“Tell you what. If your belt is working by the time that movie comes out, you can try to convince me to see it with you.”

“Uh, I’m going to try anyway. If my belt is working by then, we’re going. Period.”

Erin huffs, secretly enjoying the thought that they’ll be together in six months when There’s Something Lovely in Denmark premiers. “Well, fine.”

The lights dim, and Holtz materializes more firmly beside her. She links hands with the cool, translucent woman and watches the opening credits--she hopes her palms aren’t sweaty, or if they are, that Holtz can’t tell.

0-0-0

“Okay, so you’re seriously telling me you didn’t like the ending?”

“Look, forcing her to choose between two men who she clearly cared about is so--so normative.” Erin shakes her head. The credits are rolling, but she’s savoring the time she has with Holtz. “Why couldn’t they have all lived together? Is polyamory that frightening an idea that the screenwriters saw the opportunity and literally said frick no?”

“Tushy.”

“It’s touche.”

“I know.”

Erin sighs and stands, holding Betsy close. “I guess we better get out of here.”

“My place isn’t too far from here,” Holtz flirts, “if you’d like to come by for a nightcap.”

“I don’t know… I have work in the morning.” Erin fidgets.

“I mean, I won’t force you. I’m just saying I could rock your world.”

Erin leans forward and kisses Holtz’s cheek. There’s nothing substantial to press her lips to, but she knows when to stop when she feels cool air against her mouth. “Back in the doll, Holtzy.”

0-0-0

Gripping the sheets, Erin squeezes her eyes shut and lets loose a series of groans and moans that fill the empty space in her bedroom. She quivers, screams, and drags herself away from Holtz’s eager, cold tongue. Sex with a ghost is odd but pleasing, she decides; while Holtz is corporeal, coming doesn’t take very long. As a ghost, however, Holtz has to work harder as every touch is gentle, no matter how much force she uses.

“You okay?” Holtz lingers near her pillow.

“I’m good.” Erin clears her throat and twists to meet Holtz’s gaze. “Actually, I’m great.”

“I, uh, miss sleeping next to you. Well, you sleep, and I watch.” Holtz stares at Betsy, who sits on the bedside table. Erin takes the doll into her arms and cuddles it closer. “That’s not really the same.”

“No, but it’s as close as we’re going to get right now.”

“I’m going to get that belt up and running soon. Just wait.”

“I hope so,” Erin responds. “And this time, maybe make it a little harder to take off?”

“How about you catch the thief?”

“Tushy.”


	37. Chapter 37

The first name on the list is Sharon Klingens. The corresponding picture is of a smiling brunette whose front teeth are a touch too big and whose bangs are cut into an elegant, if dated, side swoop. Erin stares at her face and wonders if she’s capable of breaking and entering. Reading Sharon’s bio reveals nothing of interest, and Erin sets the information aside.

“When is Jenn getting here? Shouldn’t she be able to identify the man who was looking into our affairs?”

Abby shrugs. “She’s been working on something for the mayor.”

“I thought she was supposed to be working on this for the mayor.”

“She’s a woman of many talents.”

“Did she at least tell you who she saw?”

“Nope.”

Patty yawns and tosses her file aside. “This is going to take a while. I’m gonna go grab coffee. Y’all want anything?”

“No thanks,” Abby says, glaring at Patty. “And maybe you’d be more awake if--”

“We’ve been over this before. She’s in a totally different time zone.”

Erin raises her hands. “As interesting as I find this, I’m more interested in catching a criminal.”

“We’ll change our name to Ghost-and-Criminal-Busters.”

Kevin lifts his head and peers at them. According to his speech that morning, he’s been participating in a mentorship program, but his new little brother refuses to come live with him. Erin is honestly worried that Kevin will unwittingly kidnap the small child that he’s been assigned to help, but she can’t bring herself to correct his misapprehension. With his new responsibility as older sibling, he’s been trying to do three times better at his job. Unfortunately, as Patty notes, three times zero is still zero. 

“Is that our new name?”

“No, sweetie.” Patty passes his desk and pets his head. “You just keep saying Ghostbusters.”

0-0-0

Jenn finally arrives around lunchtime the next day. She strides through the firehouse as if she is there every day and this is a usual occurrence. Erin tries not to feel territorial about her space and her friends, but she is oddly intimidated by someone else coming in and feeling at home. She’s worked so hard to reach this position in her life, and she’s incredibly envious that Jenn can just show up and fit in.

“So, guys, what have you got so far?”

“A whole lot of nothing,” Abby replies. She gestures to their stacks of files. “Definite no’s to the left. Possible maybe’s in the center, and absolute yes’s to the right. As you can see, we have nothing in the right-most pile.”

“But a few in the left.”

Patty laughs. “I’d prefer more stratification.”

“You would.”

Jenn investigates their decisions and nods as she pulls a file from the maybe pile. “This is the man I’ve had my eye on.”

Erin grabs the head shot and information packet and browses quickly. His name is Quentin Smithe, resident of the lower east side and recent security hire at city hall. Although he’s smiling in his picture, Erin swears there’s something sinister in his eyes. She appraises his small nose and large forehead and deems him their guy.

“Don’t get too feisty,” Abby cautions, snagging the documents from Erin’s fingers. “I can tell you’re ready to go take him down. But that’s not how we bust things. You hear me, Erin?”

“I hear you. I don’t want to, but I do.”

“Good.” Jenn claps her hands together. “If you need any additional help or resources, just shoot me a text.”

“I don’t have your number--”

Abby interrupts Erin’s statement with a quick, embarrassed, “I do.”

“Also, you were assigned to work with us, but you’re barely here.”

“I do have other duties,” Jenn responds. “Besides, you guys are the Ghostbusters. You’ve got this well in hand.”

“We might if he were dead,” Erin says dryly. She’s much more confident now than she used to be, but that self-efficacy is limited to the realms of fighting the supernatural.

“Oh. Before I go, how’s your ghost?”

Erin takes Betsy out of her purse and shakes it gently. She whispers Holtz’s name, and a moment later, Holtz materializes. “I hope this is important. I was doing some super important ghost business--”

“You were napping.”

“Hey, now that I can, why not? Easier to rest in a doll than stretched across an entire building.”

“Lovebirds.” Abby waves her hands to get their attention. “Jenn?”

“Oh.” Holtz mimes straightening her clothing, although nothing about her appearance changes. “Hello again.”

“I’m glad to see you survived the incident.”

“It’ll take a lot more than that dude to take down my indomitable spirit.”

Erin gently jabs Holtz in the side, causing the ghost to deflate and waver. “What she means is that as long as she’s haunting something or somewhere, she’ll be okay, belt or no belt.”

“Good to know.”

“We’re working on another belt for her.” Patty gestures to the table at the far end of the room, where their current efforts reside. The belt is slimmer than before, but there is a loop on one side to which a container can be attached. The last step, Erin knows, is finding a material to protect Betsy against the elements, ghosts, and collateral damage. “We hope to have her physical again within the week.”

“I see.” Jenn hesitates. “There’s a strong possibility that your belt was stolen in order to make copies. Patenting the technology and selling them could prove to be very lucrative.”

“Yeah, a ton of people would love to have their family members chilling out as ghosts.” Holtz shakes her head and drifts into the air. “Unfortunately, ghosts like me are a rarity. I can think and learn and talk and manifest when I want to. What’s that called, Abs?”

“Class 5 apparition.”

“Right. I’ve got a distinct form and a personality. I’m not an echo or a vengeful spirit.”

“So?”

“So, that belt won’t do much to help people reconnect with lost loved ones because most lost loved ones are either gone or a lower level spirit. Put a belt on one of them, and all you’ll get is a physical form.” She twists her lips to and fro, thinking through the possibilities. Erin wonders if Holtz finally understands that there’s no point in trying to resurrect her father. “Can you imagine putting that baby on a malevolent entity?”

The living people in the room all freeze for several moments, except for Kevin, who has successfully distracted himself from the conversation by building a paperclip chain. Erin and Patty exchange tense looks, while Abby invests herself in Quentin’s file. Jenn whips her phone out and makes a hurried call, asking the mayor for more help on this project.


	38. Chapter 38

“It’s not such a big deal,” Holtz complains. “So what if Betsy gets a little burned from time to time?”

Abby stares at her, mouth open but wordless. After a moment, she huffs and folds her arms. “Holtzmann. If Betsy goes up in smoke, so do you.”

“Only if all of Betsy goes,” Holtz corrects. “I think.”

Snatching Betsy from the tabletop, Abby marches to the lab and selects an sharp-bladed instrument. She follows Betsy’s seams and rips slowly until beans trickle out onto the table. Holtz floats behind her, watching closely but feigning disinterest. Abby knows better, however; the dead woman is just as much a scientist as she is, and they both are dying to know the results of these tests.

“How do you feel?”

“No different.”

“Put the belt on.” Abby stitches Betsy closed again and waits while Holtz snags the newest version of the Life Belt. Once the belt is around her waist, Holtz materializes fully and grins. Abby snorts and picks the sharp tool up once more. “I’m going to try again. Let me know what you feel.”

“Aye, aye.” Holtz checks out her hands and muses sadly, “Gonna miss flying.”

“You can take the belt off again later,” Abby replies absently. 

Holtz snorts. “No, thanks. Got me some touching to do.”

“Erin is my best friend, Holtzmann. I don’t want to hear this.”

“You’re the one with her mind in the gutter,” Holtz teases. “I was talking about petting dogs and picking up wrenches and maybe wearing socks while rubbing my feet on the carpet and then shocking someone. The little things.”

“Hmph.” Abby slices the seam again, and more beans trickle out.

“Uh.” Holtz grips her side and stares down. Nothing has changed about her appearance, but she looks puzzled. “That tickles.”

Abby rips the hole larger, and Holtz yelps. “I take it that one hurt?”

“I’ll get you back for that, Yates.” Holtz moves forward and takes Betsy. With tender care, she dumps the beans back inside and fumbles the hole closed. Abby gently stitches Betsy back together, and Holtz sighs with relief. “You’ve made your point, though. Gotta protect this baby while we fightin’ baddies.”

“I’ve been reading about a new indestructible coating--you spray it on something, and that something becomes unbreakable.”

“You want to spray Betsy?” Holtzmann tenses.

“I understand she’s a very dear childhood treasure--”

“How will I scare assholes on Halloween if I can’t make her chase one down the street?”

Abby rolls her eyes. “We’ll investigate other options first, if it matters that much to you.”

“Great.”

0-0-0

Erin bristles next to Patty, who has a remarkably calm attitude despite standing in front of Quentin Smithe’s door. If she had her way, she’d have broken the door down and shook him by the shoulders until he gave them back the belt. Instead, she stands as patiently as she can while Patty rings the doorbell once more.

“His car is in the driveway.” Patty peers in the window. “But I don’t see anyone inside.”

“He’s in there. He knows we’re coming for him.”

“Cool it, girl.”

Erin leans against the door and eyes Patty. “Could you break it down?”

“We don’t have a warrant. We’re just here to have a conversation. Maybe letting you come was a mistake--”

The door creaks open, and Erin loses her balance. She scrambles upright and blinks into the dark hallway beyond the door. Nobody is there. Throat tight, she pushes the door open a bit farther and steps inside.

“Mr. Smithe? My name is Erin Gilbert, and this is my friend Patty Tolan. We just want to talk.”

Patty’s hand rests on her arm, slowing her pace. “That’s correct, Mr. Smithe. We’re unarmed, and we don’t have any intention to harm you.”

The first floor is deserted, and the hair on the back of Erin’s neck prickles unpleasantly. “Who let us in?”

“A bit of wind?” Patty’s voice is soft and uncertain. “We should call for back up.”

“They’re testing Betsy. That’s important.” Erin straightens her shoulders. “We can handle this.”

“Oh, no.” Patty shakes her head and beelines for the front door. “I’ll fight ghosts, but I will not intentionally walk into any freaky shit.”

“Patty--”

The door slams before Erin can finish her plea, and Patty stumbles back. Erin sprints to her side and steadies her, but she’s rattled, too. She fumbles for her cell phone and dials Abby’s number, but the phone is jerked from her hand and thrown across the room, where it shatters against the wall.

“I guess calling for backup is a no-go,” she says weakly.

“I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Look, we’ll be okay. We just need to find the kitchen.”

“The kitchen? What, like a butcher knife is going to save us from a ghost?”

“No, but salt might buy us some time.”

Erin holds Patty’s hand as they creep through the house. Patty’s grip is akin to a vice, but she wisely doesn’t comment. Without a proton pack or a ghost trap, they’re relatively at risk--should the ghost wish to harm them, they have no defenses. If they can surround themselves with salt, however, they can use Patty’s phone to call for help. She pushes Patty out of the way as a vase careens through the air and smashes the wall beside them.

“Careful.”

“Y’know, after doing this so much, you think I’d be used to this,” Patty mutters, struggling onward. “But no. Every day is a fresh horror. I’m gonna retire by next year, I swear.”

0-0-0

When the phone rings, Abby is in the bathroom, so Holtzmann picks up the cell and sings out, “Ghostbusters. You ghost ‘em, we toast ‘em.”

“Holtzmann?”

“Erin?” All of the fun slips from Holtz’s voice. “What’s going on? Why does it sound like you’re out of breath?”

“Quentin Smithe’s house,” Erin gasps. “Hurry. Bring Abby and the gear.”

“What--”

The connection dies, and Holtzmann hurries to the bathroom door, which she pounds on frantically. A flushing sound comes from within, and Abby opens the door, wiping her hands on a towel.

“What’s the rush? I thought you didn’t have bowel movements.”

“Erin and Patty are in trouble.”

Abby tosses the towel to the ground. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“I did,” Holtz argues, following Abby to the proton packs. She sizes one up hungrily until Abby shoots her a glare.

“Not until we know what we’re doing to keep Betsy safe.”

“But--”

“None of that, young lady.” Abby tilts her head up and points to the door. “Go get the car.”

“You go get the car,” Holtz grouses but does as she's told.


	39. Chapter 39

Abby sizes up the Smithe house, which is dark and foreboding, and determines that if there’s any supernatural battling going on inside, it’s quiet and contained. She refuses to entertain the notion that either of her friends is hurt--no, both are fighting tooth and nail, unarmed, against some sort of spectral entity. And they’re winning.

Farther down the street, an old woman watches the car curiously until Holtz glowers at her for an extended period of time. Once the woman has been dismissed, Holtz also stares up at the house with speculative eyes. She doesn’t care what’s going on inside--all she cares about is doing something productive. She didn’t get a physical form to sit on the couch and watch television, although she has done her fair share of that. “So, we going in?”

“I’m going in. You’re staying here.”

“I can help--”

“By staying here.”

When Abby gets out, Holtz slaps her palms on the dashboard. She should be helping, she thinks. She shouldn’t let Abby boss her around, especially not when Erin is in trouble and she’s near enough to do something about it. Using the side mirror, she watches Abby suit up and sling a proton pack onto her shoulders. She gnaws on her lower lip and makes a split second decision.

As Abby marches up the path to the house, Holtz unbuckles her seatbelt, pops the door open, and rips off the Life Belt. Her physical form poofs out of existence, and her ghost form zips into Betsy, who sits on the floor by where her feet used to rest. The doll body is small and unwieldy, but Holtz does her best with what she’s got. She scrambles out of the car, uses a burst of willpower to slam the door shut and click the lock, and trundles up toward the house.

Thankfully, Abby knocked the door in and didn’t bother to shut it again, so entrance is easy. Holtz totters inside and listens carefully. In the distance, she can hear Abby calling out for Patty and Erin. Moving in the opposite direction, Holtz struggles up the staircase to the second floor. Something ripples across her awareness, and she freezes at the sight of an ungainly spirit zooming down the hallway toward her.

Abandoning Betsy, Holtz leaps into the air and collides with what looks to be an older man whose face has been stretched and strained into a poor facsimile of humanity. He claws at her with fingernails much more long and jagged than they ought to be; she doesn’t dodge because, as a spirit, she’s grown used to nothing harming her. The nails perforate her shoulder, and she screeches at the sudden, intense pain the wound causes.

Note to self, she thinks: ghosts can hurt other ghosts.

With this new information stored away, she cocks a fist back and slams it as hard as she can into the man’s nose. He buffets back with a grunt before slinging himself forward at her again. Recognizing that he’s stronger and more agile than she is, she skitters downstairs toward Abby, who should be able to zap the man into a trap. She spots Abby in the kitchen, bending low to examine a shaky line of salt.

“Abby!”

Abby looks up and frowns. “Holtz, what the heck are you doing?”

“Questions later. Ghostbusting now.” Holtz loops behind her, and moments later, the man careens into the room, his arms extended in her direction.

Abby whips her blaster up, aims carefully, and blasts him in the chest. He screams furiously, and Abby struggles to maintain control. Without her partners, she realizes how difficult capturing a ghost can be--she can’t reach the trap without shutting down the beam, but she can’t shut down the beam without releasing the spirit.

“Holtz, can you move things as you are?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Holtz clutches her shoulder, which oozes translucent puss.

“Throw the trap under him and open it.”

Holtz closes her eyes and does as she’s told.

0-0-0

Patty listens at the closet door to a very quiet house. Erin clings to her side, desperate to get out of this small, dark space. They heard Abby enter earlier but couldn’t risk showing themselves to the ghost, and they heard the sounds of a proton pack blasting, which Erin assumes to be a good thing. However, Patty wants to be careful, and Erin decides not to complain.

“Patty? Erin?”

“That’s Abby,” Erin murmurs, excited.

“She sounded like herself when she got possessed before.”

“Well, how will we know unless we talk to her? Can’t you just slap the ghost out of her if you need to?”

Patty sighs and opens the door. Erin tumbles out into the bedroom and hollers for Abby, who bursts in a few seconds later. They hug, and Erin’s trembles slowly disperse. She trusts Abby implicitly, and she’s entirely certain that Abby isn’t possessed. Only the real Abby could give a hug this comforting.

“Did you trap him?”

“Yeah. He’s downstairs, waiting for interment. Do we know who he is?”

“He looked too old to be Quentin,” Erin remarks.

Patty glances under the bed and repels backward. “Well, I just found Quentin, and he’s seen better days.”

Abby drops down and peers at the bloody corpse under the bed. She, too, stumbles back, her face drawn and taut. “If he was the thief, we’re not going to get any answers out of him now.”

“He might have left clues behind.” Erin doesn’t bother looking under the bed. She assumes the sight beneath is less than appealing and would rather not traumatize herself, at least not anymore that afternoon. Instead, she approaches his dresser, which has photographs framed atop it. She selects one of Quentin and an older couple, presumably his parents. “This sure looks like our ghost.”

“Father, maybe?”

“There was nothing in his file about his parents,” Patty muses. “It’s possible they died unpleasantly, and that his father came back as a ghost. That might explain why he wanted to steal the belt.”

“He wasn’t wearing it, though. He was definitely still a non-corporeal entity, maybe class four or five, but not sentient.”

“Oh, speaking of sentient ghosts, we should probably get Holtz back to the firehouse. She’s had a bit of an accident.”

Erin glares at Abby. “You didn’t think to mention that first?”

“It’s not like she’s going to die.”

As she flies toward the stairs, she spots Betsy slumped in the corner. The doll’s arm is hanging at an odd angle, and she’s extremely careful in picking Betsy up. A few beans spill out, so she loads them back inside and tips Betsy sideways to keep from leaking more beans on the way down. Holtz sits on the bottom step, her hand still pressed tightly to her shoulder.

“Holtzmann,” Erin says, her voice barely audible. “You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

“I didn’t even know I could, to be fair.” Holtz drifts into the air. “You’re safe. That’s what matters.”

“I don’t want to be safe if it means you’re going to throw yourself into dangerous situations.”

“Well. Think of it this way--I’m gonna do that anyway. I’d rather not be James Dean.”

Erin squints, confused. “What?”

“A rebel without a cause.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you get hurt.”

“Girl, you’re the only reason I’m willing to get hurt.” Holtz winks and flickers. “I’m going back in Betsy for a while. Don’t worry if I’m not around for a few hours--maybe a few days. I need to rest.”

Before entering the doll, Holtz kisses her cheek. Erin presses her hand to the spot where Holtz’s cool lips had just been and closes her eyes. She’ll do her best to be patient, but she hopes Holtz is back to her old self soon.


	40. Chapter 40

Four days pass before Holtz reappears.

Knowing that Holtzmann is recuperating makes the separation easier on Erin, even as the time stretches longer and longer. She devotes herself to her work, writes the first six or so pages of her article, and helps Patty research into Quentin Smithe’s past. So far, all they can find is that both of his parents died within the last three years, but neither death appears to be brutal enough to cause a haunting. Mary Smithe died first in her sleep, while Richard Smithe passed away a year later with flu-like symptoms that didn’t strike the doctors as an usual cause of death.

She’s bent over the file, the back of a pen between her teeth, when Holtz swirls into existence in front of her. Because she’s so intent on her task, she doesn’t realize she’s not alone until Holtzmann has all but crawled into her lap.

“Hey, baby,” Holtz murmurs in her ear. “Come here often?”

“How are you feeling?”

“Well, I’m still dead.”

Erin shifts back to examine Holtz’s arm for herself. There’s a small scar where the old man’s nails gouged Holtz, and Erin grimaces. “We stitched Betsy up as fast as we could, but it looks like it wasn’t enough to save you.”

“Chicks dig scars, right?” Holtz kisses her slowly, cutting off any potential worry and shelving further discussion for another time.

0-0-0

“Holtz-my-mann!” Abby extends her hands, and Holtz goes through an intricate handshake, which ends with both grinning at each other and laughing. “Good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back, Cathy,” Holtz replies, adopting a serious tone. Erin gets the impression that Holtz has watched a few too many daytime talk shows and practiced giving interviews in the mirror.

“You ready for some more tests?”

Erin clears her throat and moves forward, unconsciously stepping in front of Holtz as she does so. “We just got her back. Do you really think we should just jump straight into experimenting on her?”

“Experimenting with her,” Abby corrects. She meets Erin’s gaze and lifts her eyebrows. “We’ll be safe, Mom, we promise.”

“Yeah, Mom.” Holtz clasps her hands and drops to her knees in supplication.

“Fine. You’re an adult. You can make your own choices.”

Before she can change her mind, she shuffles over to Patty’s desk and takes a seat. Working on the Smithe problem will help distract her, thus keeping her from getting too anxious about whatever Holtzmann and Abby will be getting up to on the second floor of the firehouse. Patty slides a paper over.

“I did a little digging.”

Erin reads the sheet over and forgets all about the experiments. “Where did you get this?”

“I called an old friend from the MTA. He was on security, but his hobbies aren’t exactly… well, legal.” Patty hedges. “But this is sort of a don’t ask, don’t tell sort of situation. We need the information, and we wouldn’t have found it otherwise, so… Maybe don’t advertise it?”

“Patty…”

“I don’t need you on my case, too. If we did everything by the book, we wouldn’t be here right now, would we?”

Erin considers how much they had to fight through the mayor’s restrictions as New York was rapidly falling prey to a maniac with the technology to break the barrier between planes. She understands working outside the law, but breaking the rules always makes her uncomfortable. Then again, she realizes that the rules haven’t exactly aided her career in any way.

“I didn’t hear anything,” she says eventually. “So, there’s a question as to whether Mrs. Smithe actually died in her sleep?”

“Mr. Smithe worked for the police department for several decades. I’m not suggesting a conspiracy theory, mind you, but I think it’s definitely plausible that something may have happened that he used his position to cover up.”

“But he’s the one who was a ghost.”

“I didn’t say I had all the answers. Hell, I didn’t even say I had any answers to begin with.”

“Did you find anything on his death?”

“No, not yet.” Patty flips through her research and shrugs. “If there was anything violent or weird about his death, nobody thought to write it down.”

Erin settles back in her chair and reads the information concerning Mrs. Smithe’s death once more. “I guess we just keep looking into Mrs. Smithe for now.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Patty grins. “You up for a trip to the library?”

0-0-0

Erin runs through the rain to an apartment building that definitely is not the public library. Patty waits on the stoop, raindrops dripping down her cheeks as she presses the bell next to the door again. Erin is envious of Patty’s long legs and quick stride but notes that they’re both soaking wet; Patty’s quick pace didn’t save her from the rain in the slightest.

“So, where are we?”

“Ned’s.”

“Should I be here?” Erin glances around suspiciously, as if cops will jump out from every alley way, their guns trained on her, at any moment.

“Just keep your cool.”

The door buzzes open, and Patty pushes inside. Erin hesitates and then follows her in. They take the elevator to the ninth floor, move down the hallway, and rap at 9E. Ned appears a moment later, his features hidden behind a thick beard and curling hair.

“Patty, back so soon?”

“What you found was excellent,” she responds before jerking her head in Erin’s direction. “Erin Gilbert, this is Ned. Ned, Erin.”

Erin extends her hand, but Ned doesn’t reciprocate. He gestures for them to enter and then locks up behind them. There are six locks on the door, all of which he flips, twists, or bolts. Because Patty is already heading down the hallway, Erin delves deeper as well. She enters a living room that practically glows with the light emanating from dozens of computers.

“Who needs this many computers?” she whispers to Patty, who chuckles.

“So, what else do you need to know?” Ned takes a seat in a computer chair, while Patty sits on the couch. Erin stands a moment longer, feeling like she’s an antarctic penguin suddenly dropped in the Sahara. 

“Any idea how Mary Smithe passed away, other than possible foul play?”

“Most of the paperwork has been destroyed.”

“Most? But not all, right?”

He smiles. “You’re clever, Patty.”

“That’s why we get along.”

He turns to his computer and within half an hour, they’re back on the street with several sheets of illicit information tucked into Erin’s purse. Every time they pass a police car, Erin hopes that her guilt isn’t painted on her face.


	41. Chapter 41

“You actually did something illegal?” Holtzmann hoots and flops back on the couch. She wipes at her eyes as if there are tears coursing down her cheeks, but there’s nothing of the sort. Erin wonders if Holtz can cry, or if Holtz’s physical form is still limited in its functionality.

Patty cracks a can of Coke, drains half, and laughs. “She did. But you shoulda seen how far out her head her eyes bulged the whole time.”

“Haha, very funny,” Erin mutters. 

She enjoys a good joke as much as anyone, but she hates when people gang up on her--especially people who are supposed to be her friends. Generally speaking, she understands that they don’t mean any harm--but her rational side and her emotions are only very distantly connected. Hurt lances through her, and she invests herself more thoroughly in her article, which is stuck on page six as her mind churns through her negative emotions rather than the article’s content.

Abby enters the room, holding aloft a clear bag of some sort. “Behold, my friends, the future of haunted item preservation.”

“What happened to the super spray that would make Betsy immortal?” Holtz peers at the bag, her skepticism painfully apparent in both her tone and her expression. She pokes the material and shakes her head. “Doesn’t seem so special to me.”

“You’ve made your position crystal clear,” Abby replies. “If you can’t scare teenagers at Halloween, you’ll have lost your sole purpose in life. With that in mind, I set about finding alternatives for you.”

“And this is the culmination of your efforts?”

“You’ll be impressed sooner or later.” Abby opens the bag and stretches out her hand. “Erin, give me your wallet.”

“What? Why mine?”

“Wallet, please.”

Erin stands and stalks to her purse, from inside which she fishes her wallet. Still grouchy, she places the wallet in Abby’s palm and then returns to her work. Although she feigns disinterest, she keeps an ear open.

“Okay, so first we seal the wallet in the bag. I did consider making the bag unopenable, but that just restrains Holtz’s need to terrorize the neighborhood. Besides, then how would we get Erin her wallet back?”

Erin taps the keyboard a little harder, glad that nobody can see she’s just typing a row of keys over and over again. The nonsense will be embarrassing later, but for now, she just wants to look like she doesn’t know or care what the others are doing.

“Once sealed, the bag is nigh indestructible. Mind you, I didn’t get to test it under nuclear fall out parameters, but--”

“If you didn’t do that,” Holtzmann interrupts, “then how will we know if it’s safe for Betsy?”

“Y’know, I don’t know. You’ll just have to trust me on this one.”

“Get on with it,” Patty insists. “I’d like to see this bag in action before we all die, become ghosts, and need to protect the objects we’re haunting.”

“Holtz, get me a torch.”

Unable to take this any longer, Erin leaps to her feet. “I’m sorry, Abby, but you’re not setting my wallet on fire.”

Abby holds the bagged wallet out of reach. “Trust me. I’m a scientist.”

“Yeah, well, so am I. And I don’t want my wallet set on fire.”

“Fine,” Abby grouses. She fishes the wallet out and hands it back. “It wouldn’t have gotten hurt. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Erin tucks her wallet away, grabs her laptop, and marches downstairs. She informs Kevin that she’ll be at home for the rest of the day and to call her if there’s an emergency that requires her attention. He repeats her message with minimal mistakes, so she leaves in a huff.

0-0-0

Erin sits in the living room, her papers spread out around her. Despite hoping to get more work done at home, she hasn’t accomplished much of anything except letting her thoughts whirl about in circles. She hears the front door open and close, but she doesn’t move.

“Can I sit down?”

She doesn’t look up at Holtzmann and merely nods.

“I get the feeling you weren’t having fun with us today.”

“Oh?” There is a mug full of coffee by her knee, which Erin picks up and sips. She’s left the liquid for too long, however, and it’s too cold to be enjoyable. She drinks it anyway.

“Abby wasn’t going to destroy your wallet.”

“Mm.”

“She was just having fun.”

“Mm.”

“Can you say anything other than ‘mm’?”

“Mm-hm.”

Holtz reaches across and takes her hand. “Look, I can’t make this better if you won’t talk to me.”

Erin withdraws her hand, not willing to forgive and forget so easily. Still, she sees Holtzmann’s point. “What’s there to say?”

“Did we go too far?”

“Yes.”

It’s Holtz’s turn to fidget. “It wasn’t supposed to--We didn’t mean--”

“All my life, I’ve been the butt of someone’s joke. That’s what I’m good for--laughing at.”

“That’s not true.”

Erin frowns and looks away. “It always happens. I’m too stiff, or too weird, or too much of something. You fill in the blank.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Abby and Patty--and you--weren’t supposed to be like everyone else.”

“We dropped the ball,” Holtz concludes, sadness edging into her tone. “Does it make a difference if we’re sorry?”

Everyone can utter those words, Erin thinks. She’s heard them a number of times over the years from all different sources. Very rarely have they been said with any sincerity. Feeling defeated, she stands to throw her trash away and says, “Sure.”

“Erin…”

“I just need some space.”

Holtzmann remains in the living room while Erin retreats to the bedroom, hands jammed in her pockets and her head lowered.

0-0-0

The bed dips as Holtzmann settles next to her later that evening. Erin hastily wipes her tears away and does her best to seem normal. She accepts Holtz’s kiss with a small smile and says, “Sorry about that earlier.”

“Don’t apologize,” Holtz states, her voice mild. “You’re only doing it because you’re afraid everyone will leave you if you’re not what they want you to be.”

Erin bristles. “If that were true--”

“Erin. We messed up. You’re allowed to be upset. Seriously.”

“I know that.”

“Try believing it, too.”

“That’s a little bit harder.”

“Well, I can’t believe it’s not butter, but you can’t argue with the science behind margarine.”

Erin laughs, and the sound is so honest it makes Holtz smile. She toys with a strand of Erin’s hair and promises to be better in the future.


	42. Chapter 42

Abby and Patty apologize as soon as she arrives the next morning. She glances at Holtz, who immediately states that she didn’t contact them and had nothing to do with their genuine contrition. She accepts the provided apologies and shoos everyone away--she wants to move past the events of the day before, not linger in them.

“Well, if you’re at all curious, the material is fire-proof, water-proof, and ectoplasm-proof,” Abby says, guiding her to a work table. Erin picks up the bag and examines the markings; she has to admit, she’s impressed with Abby’s ingenuity.

“So, Betsy will be safe inside?”

“Barring a nuclear fallout.”

“Can the bag be attached to the belt?”

“We’re working on integrating the design. My first thought was to just attach the bag to the belt, but Holtzmann felt that looked too much like a fanny pack.” Abby snorts. “So, now she’s in charge of figuring out where to make the attachment.”

While Patty and Holtzmann are out of earshot, Erin rests her hand on Abby’s forearm. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did yesterday. I’ve just--I’ve been a bit of a mess.”

Abby makes somber eye contact. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say.” Erin runs a hand through her hair. “Doesn’t it feel like everything’s changed all at once, but somehow, this is how it’s always been?”

“A little bit. Then again, I’ve been hunting ghosts for as long as I can remember, while you--”

“I know. I abandoned you and our book.”

“I wasn’t going to say that.” Abby shrugs and fiddles with the bag. “Okay, maybe I would have like a million years ago, but the thing is, you had to do what was right for you. And I get that now. It hurt, but it’s done.”

“I wish it didn’t still hurt.”

“I’ll have Kevin get some Neosporin and a pack of Bandaids next time he goes to the corner store.”

Erin smiles. “He’ll probably come back with nasal spray and a CD.” 

“That’s our Kev.” Abby pats her arm. “So, you think you’ll make it?”

“Can we just promise not to make any more jokes about me going crazy? I know you’re just having fun, but… but they hit a little too close to home.”

“I’m probably going to start making fun of Holtzmann, to be honest. The girl’s a walking joke waiting to happen.”

“Thank you.”

“What are best friends for?”

0-0-0

“Okay, seriously?” Patty takes a bite of her pizza and shakes her head. “I know we rotate who chooses toppings, but I gotta put my foot down. Nobody is ever allowed to order anchovies again.”

Holtz grins and kicks her feet up. “That’s not how the rules work, Patman.”

“No, I have to agree.” Erin’s face scrunches up at the unpleasant onslaught of salty, fishy flavor. She’s rather adventurous when it comes to trying new foods, but there is a line, and this pizza is definitely over that line.

“It’ll grow on you.”

“Holtzmann, we don’t want it to.” Abby grimaces, setting her slice aside. “Either agree to our terms or never be invited to participate again.”

“I don’t taste things as strongly as you guys do.” Holtz eats another slice, glad that her belt has her back to digesting things without too much power expended. She assumes that things will only get better and easier as she continues tinkering with the design.

“We can always get her a personal pan pizza.”

“That’s madness,” Abby counters. “If we let Holtzmann have her own pizza, why not all of us? This is a dangerous, slippery slope.”

As Holtzmann mounts her defense and argues that a personal pizza is not just a privilege but her God given right, Erin soaks in the moment. Never before has she had so many people who respected her as a person--as a scientist and professor, certainly, but not as a person. She knows that under any circumstance, the people around this table will love and accept her, and she chokes up at the thought.

“Need the heimlich?” Holtz touches her elbow. “Because I can probably do that pretty good.”

“Any excuse to touch me, hm?”

Holtz laughs long and loud. She’s not crying, but she wipes away ‘tears’ anyway. “I don’t need an excuse.”

“Well, you do need a room,” Patty interrupts. “There should be a strict no P.D.A. in the firehouse rule.”

“You’re just jealous that your girlfriend lives in the U.K.” Abby leans her chin in her palm and her elbow on the table. “You got any plans to meet her in person?”

“Eventually.” Patty sits a little straighter. “But that’s a long flight, if I’m not sure, y’know?”

“How do you know it’s real?”

Holtz nudges Erin and shakes her head. “Babe, I hit on you across planes of existence, and you knew, didn’t you? I think the old Pattleaxe over there knows what she feels.”

“Pattleaxe? Really?” Patty rolls her eyes. “When are you going to stop with the nicknames?”

“When you admit that they’re great, and I’m a genius.”

“She’s right, though,” Patty says, ignoring Holtz’s annoying answer. “I may not have ever met her, but I know what I’m feeling. I can’t speak for her, but--”

“What’s her name?”

“Rebecca.”

“And what does she do?”

“She’s a professor at Oxford.”

Abby brightens. “Oh, I’m so glad you chose a smart one this time.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just saying that last year’s model, Brian, had almost as little going on upstairs as Kevin.”

“Brian wasn’t a boyfriend,” Patty rebuts. “Brian was a handsome solution to a short-term problem.”

“We’re happy for you, really.” Erin clasps Patty’s hand and smiles. “You should see if she’ll come here the next time she has a break. You can show her around, and we can all meet her.”

“That’s a lot at once.”

“Start with me,” Holtz suggests. “I’ll win her over, and then she can meet the weirder half of our little group.”

“Holtzmann, the day you are normal and I’m strange is probably the start of the apocalypse,” Abby retorts.

“Would that really be so bad?”

“The apocalypse.” Patty shakes her head. “Holtzmann, you scare me sometimes.”

Erin tosses her napkin on her half-eaten slice of pizza and stands. They’ve been goofing off long enough, and there’s plenty left to do. On top of working on her article, she wants to sift through their new information and see if there’s anything to go off of concerning the Smithe Family Mystery. Jenn’s supposed to be by later with the results from the autopsy performed on Quentin, and she wants to be ready.


	43. Chapter 43

“The results are what you might expect--the wounds that proved fatal had trace amounts of ectoplasmic residue inside. The cause of death being released to the public is he suffered multiple lacerations, likely from a knife or similar weapon, during an interrupted home invasion.”

“Y’all are good at this cover up business.”

Jenn beams. “My specialty, actually.”

“So, cover up aside, this was definitely a ghost.” Abby runs a finger down the autopsy report and grimaces at how badly Quentin had been sliced open. The internal damage is almost as nasty as the external.

Erin sees the same information and is eternally grateful they caught the old man before he could hurt anyone else. Well, anyone besides Holtzmann. The scar is darker than the rest of Holtzmann’s pale flesh, and Erin can’t not look at it every time Holtz’s arm is on display. She knows Holtzmann is strong willed and determined to the point of recklessness, so she also knows she can’t stop Holtzmann from doing something dangerous--but she can worry.

“I also collected all the background data we had on him. I’m not sure what we’re looking for, but it’s probably in there somewhere.”

Holtz, who has been observing from a distance, moves closer and selects the folder on his background. She flips casually through and asks, “What was he in therapy for?”

“When?”

“Says he saw a therapist from age twelve to nineteen.”

Jenn shrugs. “Don’t know.”

“Don’t suppose you can use your mayor’s office powers to get his files from a Dr. Hyero?”

“I’m afraid our control doesn’t quite extend that far.”

Holtz snorts. “You’re telling me the government can’t do something as simple as a file requisition? I know you’ve got your fingers in everything.”

While Holtz wiggles her fingers to illustrate her point, Erin takes the file to examine for herself. She checks his employment application and spots a transcript of his interview process. There, deep in the details, she finds the answer. “He was court ordered to complete the therapy when he attacked his father for abusing his mother. The act was deemed to be a lawful defense of his mother, but the judge was worried about the negative impact on his psyche.”

“They stayed married?”

“Apparently.” Erin sets the file aside. “None of this is going to tell us why his dad is a ghost, though. If anything, his mom should be the one flying about attacking people. She’s the one with the suspicious circumstances surrounding her death.”

“Did you look into Ned’s files, yet?” Patty holds them aloft. “Looks like Quentin was as suspicious as we are about his mother’s passing.”

“What do you mean?”

“Quentin’s the one who talked to the local police about his father’s possible connection.”

Abby snatches the papers, and Jenn peers over her shoulder. “Well, damn. I’m guessing father and son didn’t exactly get along.”

“That’s a safe bet.”

“Wanna bet that Quentin had a hand in father dearest getting sick?” Holtzmann extends her hand toward Abby, who shakes her head.

“I’m not dumb enough to take that bet, Holtz.”

Each person in the room denies Holtz’s bet one by one. While they continue talking, Erin stares at the information regarding Mrs. Smithe’s death and wonders why she didn’t become a ghost posthumously. Perhaps after she publishes her current article, she’ll start researching the science behind ghostly manifestations--if she can figure out what causes a spirit to manifest, there’s a chance she can unlock the mysteries of the other plane of existence, if there is one. And, she thinks and feels selfish, she can find a way to stay with Holtz forever.

0-0-0

Holtz sits in the back alley and stares at the fake ghosts painted on various targets around the area. Two small handguns rest in her lap, and she runs her hands over them pensively. The backdoor to the firehouse creaks open, and she turns to greet Erin.

“Hey, hot stuff.”

Erin smiles at the nickname, sits next to Holtz, and takes one of the guns. She points at a target and squints down the sights. “I haven’t seen these before.”

“I’m still working on them,” Holtz replies. “After you and Patty got stuck without your proton packs, I started thinking about more portable emergency options.”

“Ready for a test run?”

“Not yet.” Holtz takes the gun back and picks at the metal work. “I’m still toying with how to make the equipment small enough. The proton packs struggle enough as it is with generating a solid proton beam, and it’s power source is massive.”

“Does an emergency weapon need a solid beam?”

Holtz considers the question and brightens. “You’re absolutely right. This isn’t about ghost capture but about ghost escape. So, really, a few good short shots, and poof. You can make a run for safety.”

“Why were you sitting out here alone?”

“Just thinking.”

Erin admires how quickly Holtz can change subjects. If someone had attempted that sort of non sequitur with her, she would have floundered, but Holtz responds as if this new topic is expected. “Can I ask about what?”

“My mom.”

“Oh.” Erin picks at her fingernails quietly for a few minutes. Holtz seems content in the silence, but Erin wants to know more. “What about her?”

“Maybe going to see her. I don’t know.”

“She’d like that.”

“Me, too, I think.”

“But it’s stressful.” Erin scoots a little closer. “Right?”

“Right.”

“It’d been a while since I talked to my parents before my mom showed up looking for help. I know it’s not the same thing, but I can sort of empathize.”

“Thanks.” Holtz clears her throat. “Want to help me work out the logistics of these babies?”

Holtz mimes firing her guns at the targets, and Erin nods. “Sure. If you want to talk--”

“I know where you are, for sure.”

0-0-0

“Guys, we have a call.” Kevin slams the phone down, and Erin winces. He’s going to break that plastic phone sooner or later, she realizes; then again, he’ll probably just think no calls are coming in and not even notice there’s a problem.

“Where?” Patty stands immediately.

“The holey cheese place.”

Patty eyes him and runs through the possibilities. “Holy Jesus?”

“Right.”

“A church. Please tell me you got an address.” He hands her a notepad, and althoug his handwriting is nearly illegible, she figures it out. “The Holy Jesus Commune.”

He nods eagerly. Holtz puts the finishing touch on one of her guns, which she hands to Erin. “Any super cool, deadly history there?”

“Only a small scale massacre.” 

“Neat,” Holtz replies. “Let’s roll.”


	44. Chapter 44

Erin keeps her pistol pointing at the building’s door as the others get their equipment on. Even from the curb, they’ve seen an incredibly high level of activity inside, and they’re not taking any chances. She has to admit that she’s probably a little too on edge, and she reminds herself to verify her shots before she pulls the trigger. They’ve never accidentally hit a human being before, and she’s not interested in finding out the effects of proton blasts on living flesh.

“I’m gonna go ghost,” Holtz whispers in her ear.

She stiffens. “You only just healed--”

“I’ve been practicing. I’m like the Rambo of ghost-to-ghost combat now.”

“Just please be careful.”

Holtzmann kisses her cheek and winks. “Aren’t I always?”

Before Erin can complain that Holtz is rarely careful, ever, Holtz removes the belt and poofs into her ghostly form. She floats circles around Erin for a moment and then mimes the backstroke toward the commune. As the belt isn’t yet equipped for Betsy, Erin tucks the bagged doll down the front of her beige and orange jumpsuit for safe keeping, loops the belt over her shoulder and under the opposite arm, and follows after.

0-0-0

“In 1854, this place was full of devotees,” Patty whispers, guiding her proton blaster from target to target and squinting through the darkness. “I mean, overflowing full.”

“What happened?” Erin jumps at the sound of footsteps and then flushes when Abby appears beside her.

“Left flank clear,” she murmurs.

“This place was a Catholic gathering place, and there was some very strong anti-Catholic feelings at the time. A few radicals with weapons realized how easy it would be to take down unarmed worshipers.”

Erin cringes. “Wonderful.”

“Crazy, dead Catholics. Got it.”

“Nobody said anything about crazy,” Patty retorts.

“If I were mindlessly slaughtered and then came back as a ghost, I’d be pretty crazy.” Abby shrugs. “But maybe that’s just me.”

A ghost steps out of the shadows, weeping. He’s tall with gangling, long legs and an arm that’s only attached by a few strands of stretching skin and muscle. They all aim their blasters, but nobody fires. He doesn’t seem to notice them as he continues down the corridor.

“He didn’t seem crazy to me,” Erin whispers.

“Do… do we bust him?”

Abby sputters for a moment. “Well, I mean, that’s why we’re here, right?”

“He’s not hurting anyone.”

“But he could, couldn’t he?”

“I don’t know.”

Erin digs Betsy out of her uniform. Unsure if this will actually work, she holds the doll’s head in front of her mouth and says, “Holtz, we need you.”

Nothing happens. She flushes bright red and shoves the doll away with a muttered comment about just testing a hypothesis when Abby and Patty stare at her. They decide to split up: Erin will follow the peaceful spirit to wherever it is he’s going, and Abby and Patty will delve deeper. In twenty minutes, they’ll reconvene.

Erin sets off down the corridor, listening carefully for sounds of the man’s crying. He’s not hard to find--she eventually tracks him down to a small room where a bible sits on a podium. He stands in front of the podium, still weeping. When he doesn’t acknowledge her presence, she approaches him slowly and edges around to look at his face.

The tear tracks on his cheeks are bloody. She extends her hand to touch him but thinks better of the action at the last second. Instead, she peers beyond him and spots a pair of eyes staring at her from the dark hallway. Uncertain, she calls out a greeting.

0-0-0

Holtz drifts past a variety of spirits, none of whom are very interested in her. There are women in ornate dresses, women in plain dresses and frocks, men with tall hats, and children alike--she thinks the children are the saddest part, especially since she can see the fatal wounds on all of them. She’s not overly fond of children, but she hates the idea of them suffering. Life is hard enough without getting slaughtered for something they had little control over.

She remembers her experiences in high school, when the more popular girls would body check her into lockers and call her dyke--and when one of the football players beat her into the dirt for winking at his girlfriend. That wasn’t the first fight of her life, and it was hardly the last. But it was the first time she’d ended up with a broken nose and a fractured wrist. The dude got off with only a few bruises and scrapes, but she swore that next time, he wouldn’t be so lucky.

She traces a finger down her nose, still amazed that it didn’t heal more crookedly. At school the day after the fight, people gave her a wide berth, as if her identity as walking target practice was somehow contagious. Even the few people who usually deigned to let her eat in their presence backed out, and she learned pretty quickly that other people were jerks she couldn’t count on for anything.

She snaps back to the present moment when she hears Erin’s scream in the distance. Zipping past her ghostly brethren, she dives through walls until she finds Erin, who’s on her back, hands tightly gripping her emergency pistol. She drifts lower and firms her hand enough to shake Erin’s shoulder.

“Erin, I need you to tell me what happened.”

Erin’s eyes don’t blink, but they do tremble. Holtz tugs at the belt, popping it free and looping it around her waist. As soon as she has tangible arms, she lifts Erin up and carries her bridal style through the building. On her way to the exit, she meets up with Patty and Abby, who have clearly sprinted from their previous location.

“Is she okay?”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know.” Holtz gazes sadly down at Erin’s stunned features. “I found her like this. Unresponsive.”

“You think one of the ghosts did this?”

“Doubtful. They’re echoes.” Holtz sets Erin down by the door and borrows her proton pack. “No, whatever did this is something a little more threatening.”

“Finally, something that actually needs busting.” Patty straightens her shoulders and readies her gun. “This thing is going down. Nobody touches Erin.”

“Except me,” Holtz puts in helpfully.

“Except Holtzmann,” Patty amends. “And even then, it ain’t allowed to be violent, unless y’all are into that. I’m not judging, so long as she consents.”

Abby fires a blast into the darkness. “Guys, maybe have this conversation later? I don’t think we’re alone.”


	45. Chapter 45

Erin comes to slowly and clutches her head. Everything is a little woozy, and her eyes really don’t want to focus on anything in particular. There are a lot of noises, too, which she can’t sort through or identify, and all she wants to do is maybe sleep for a while. Instead, she’s tossed from her position and ends up sprawled face down on some sort of hard surface. Forcing her body to move, she struggles to her knees and then to her feet. The world wobbles.

“Uh...?”

“Oh, thank holey cheeses,” Holtz says, steadying her. “I was beginning to think we were having this party without you.”

“Party.” She blinks several times and squints. Holtz finally takes form, and she sighs with relief at the sight. Holtz is uninjured, although there are a few dirty scuffs on her cheeks and a manic glint in her eyes. She refocuses on what Holtz said and frowns. “Party?”

“We’re busting some ghosts.”

To keep from simply babbling one word over again, Erin nods as if this makes sense. Everything is too cacophonous as the external noise blends with a shrill ringing in her ears. She feels like vomiting, but she correctly guesses this is hardly the time. Bracing herself on the nearest wall, she takes deep breaths and hopes that things will start behaving again soon.

Holtz watches her for a moment and then realizes that no help is going to come from the positively punch-drunk woman who can’t quite stand straight. She resolves to stay close, however, to keep Erin safe as long as she can. A few yards away, Patty and Abby fire off proton blasts as something comes closer and closer. She feels a heavy weight on her chest, which suggests whatever is heading toward them is bad news.

“Any visual yet?” she calls.

“Hell no.”

Abby grunts as she fires another blast. “Negative.”

“Can you feel that shit in the atmosphere?”

“Is that an AP-xH shift?”

Holtz shivers. “I bet so.”

“It’s like pushing me,” Patty interjects.

“It’s just a feeling--”

“No, like literally. It’s pushing me.” Her tone is wild and panicked, and Holtz fires in her direction. The light from the beam illuminates a vaguely human form with a dark hand extended and pressed against Patty’s chest. “A little help?”

“Abby, get the trap.”

“On it.”

Holtz glances once more at Erin and sighs. “You… you just stay put for now, okay pretty girl?”

“Pretty,” Erin parrots back.

“Yup, that’s you. Stay.”

“Stay.”

Afraid that her girlfriend has become another version of Kevin, Holtz frowns. There is a more pressing matter to attend to first, though, so she charges forward and lights up the spectral being with a steady stream. As soon as its hand leaves Patty’s chest, Patty fires her weapon as well. Together, they contain the creature between them until Abby gets the trap charged and open beneath it. The trap wooshes, but the creature stays aloft.

“What the hell is this thing?”

“I don’t know.” Abby adds her blast and struggles to lower the beast into the trap’s waiting cavity. “How is it resisting?”

Holtz backs up and kicks Erin gently with her foot. “Erin, you gotta take this for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

Although cognizant that this could be a supremely bad idea, Holtz hands Erin the proton blaster, shimmies out of the pack, and leaves it at Erin’s feet. She tells Erin to just stand steady and aim at the monster before inching forward for a better look. The thing claws toward her, but she deftly steps out of the way. There’s something glinting in the center of its spectral form, and she reaches into its mass. Her hand encounters something small, hard, and cold; a hard tug yanks it free, and she stares down a chip of some sort.

As soon as the chip is out, the creature decreases in size, yowls, and zaps into the trap.

0-0-0

Although she wants to examine the chip in greater detail, Holtz spends most of her time sitting on the ground next to the couch on the second floor of the firehouse. Erin’s been sleeping for approximately three hours, forty-two minutes, and sixteen seconds--not that she’s counting. Abby doesn’t think any permanent damage has been done, but Holtz needs to see for herself.

“Baby, you need to take a break.”

Holtz smiles at Patty as if she’s totally fine. “Breaks are for squares.”

“And what are you?”

“I’m multifaceted, so probably closest to a dodecahedron.”

“Breaks are also for tired dodecahedrons.” Patty grips her arm and lifts her up. “So, c’mon, Holtzmann.”

Holtz glances over her shoulder at Erin’s resting form but allows Patty to frogmarch her away. On the first floor, Abby is examining the chip under a magnifying glass, but from the puzzled look on her face, Holtz assumes no new information has been learned. When Patty releases her, she dusts her clothing off and settles down next to Abby.

“Mind if I take a look?”

Abby pushes the over-sized magnifying glass over. “Be my guest.”

“Y’know,” Holtz murmurs, pushing the chip around. She isn’t a big fan of what she’s seeing, nor what it means. “This looks a lot like the tech in my belt.”

0-0-0

Erin wakes abruptly with a gasp and a groan. Her head throbs, but she remembers who and where she is. She remembers going to the commune, and she remembers Holtz carrying her to safety. Now, back in the firehouse, she realizes that something must have happened in between, and angry tears leak down her cheeks as she struggles to put the pieces together.

“Princess Aurora awakens!” Holtz grabs her hand. “We’ve been waiting.”

Erin fixes her with an unamused glare and hastily wipes the tears away. “Sleeping Beauty?”

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em. And it’s definitely been a hundred years since you fell asleep. Our president--”

“Holtz, it’s been a couple of hours.” Patty whaps Holtz gently on the head with a rolled up newspaper. “Don’t confuse her.”

“Thank you.” Erin musters a smile for Patty. She wouldn’t have believed Holtz’s silliness anyway, but she appreciates the backup nonetheless. “What happened?”

“There was a spectral entity--well, there were plenty, but most were echoes. The one that mattered, though, was something else. It was some crazy shit.”

“He had a microchip in him, and it totes interfered with the suction of the trap.”

Erin vaguely recalls holding tight to a vibrating proton gun. She rubs her head and nods. “I take it you were able to remove the chip?”

“Yeah. It’s downstairs with Abby.”

“Any idea where it came from?”

Holtz frowns. “From me. I think.”


	46. Chapter 46

Erin falls back asleep not long after, lulled into a peaceful state by Holtz’s hand in her hair and her head on Holtz’s lap. She dozes comfortably on the couch until Holtz eases her head onto the couch and shifts away. With a soft murmur, she peels her eyes open and yawns. This time, Holtz doesn’t crack any jokes; they’re alone, so the Holtz she gets is quiet and thoughtful.

“Feeling any better?”

“My head doesn’t feel like imploding anymore, so yes.”

“Sorry I woke you.”

“No, I’ve slept enough, don’t you think?”

Holtz smiles at her and helps her sit up. “Dunno. Me and sleep weren’t exactly on speaking terms before I died.”

Erin wipes the back of her hand across her eyes and wills herself to full wakefulness. “I remember a little more about what happened.”

“Yeah?”

“Someone else was there.” She rubs her hand gingerly across the knot forming on the back of her head. “Someone hit me and knocked me out.”

“Probably the same someone who put the chip in that ghost,” Holtz muses. “And the same someone who’s in control of my old belt. Whoever made that chip had to have access to my tech. No way anyone recreates what I do so similarly.”

“Have you guys figured out anything else about the chip?”

“Looks like my work, isn’t my work.” Holtz frowns and clenches a fist. “It was placed inside a malevolent entity. Best guess is that because it was just a chip and not a full belt, it let the spirit manifest physically but not fully.”

“And because it was in some way physical, the trap was struggling.”

“Exactly.”

“I hope this doesn’t start happening more.”

Holtz immediately presses a finger to her lips. “You’re going to jinx it.”

Erin eases back and cocks an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t have guessed you to be the superstitious sort.”

“Have you ever seen me walk under a ladder?”

“Have you been near a ladder since we met?”

“Details.”

0-0-0

Erin wanders downstairs once her legs are steady underneath her. She’s weaker than she cares to admit, but there’s always something she could be doing rather than sitting around feeling badly about her situation. She passes her whiteboard, full of its equations, and can’t muster the strength to care about academics. Instead, she moves past it to Abby’s desk.

“You’re up.” Abby smiles at her and touches her arm. “I was beginning to worry.”

“It was hard to stay awake for awhile there,” Erin admits.

“Unfortunately, you’re nowhere near the world record for longest time asleep but not comatose.”

Erin titters. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more help on the bust.”

“Holtz had us all covered.”

“She said that you were looking into the chip.”

“As much as I can. There’s no manufacturer’s mark, and no indication of where it came from. According to Holtz, it shouldn’t even work without a power source.”

“Well, maybe it does have a power source--just one we don’t recognize yet.”

Abby gestures to where the chip sits under the magnifying glass. “What might that be?”

Erin shrugs. “Just a thought.”

“I don’t mean to snap. It’s just this is puzzling. We’re scientists--this shouldn’t be that hard.” Abby rubs her forehead and leans back. “But the good news is that you’re okay.”

“More or less. I think there’s a baseball growing on the back of my head.”

“You really got hit hard, huh?”

“I guess so. I wish I could remember more about who did it--”

“We’ll figure it out. Don’t put too much pressure on yourself.”

Erin nods and fidgets. “I think we need to get walkie-talkies--or some form of communication. We need protocols in place in case someone gets hurt, and backup plans.”

“I agree.” Abby scoots closer and holds her hands. “Erin, you seriously freaked me the fuck out. Don’t ever do that again.”

“I didn’t mean to this time.”

“Still. You’ve been my best friend for basically forever, and I don’t have the time or energy to break in a new one.”

As the conversation drifts to other matters, Erin keeps an eye on the chip. When she wanders back toward her whiteboard, a small, niggling thought roots itself in her mind: what if the power source doesn’t exist on this plane? She stares at her calculations and thinks.

0-0-0

Two days later, her whiteboard has been wiped clean and a new calculation resides at the top. She taps the marker against her chin and slowly begins the first few steps. Finding a mistake, she erases everything and starts fresh. Eventually, Patty sits down behind her, followed by Abby and Holtz. Nobody says anything, as if aware that a conversation could break her conversation. Slowly but surely, her scribbles fill the whiteboard, until she scrawls an equals sign at the bottom and hesitates.

She caps the pen and turns to sit down at her desk--and finds her team gathered around her. “How long have you all been there?”

“About an hour,” Holtz replies.

“What’s all that mumbo-jumbo?”

Abby squints. “It’s similar to what you were working on before.”

“It is,” Erin confirms. “I don’t know, yet, really, but I was thinking about power sources.”

Holtz kicks her legs against the desk, and Erin scrambles to catch her Einstein bobblehead before it belly flops to the ground. Rather than apologize, Holtz shrugs and says, “Is this about the chip?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s like your previous work?”

“Yes.”

“So… the power source fueling the chip is on another plane of existence?”

“That was the premise from which I started. But it progressed to me wondering if the other plane of existence was the power source.”

Abby tenses. “Jenn mentioned that the mayor’s office is also working on an alternative power program.”

“Think the two are connected?”

“I don’t trust the government,” Holtz announces, “but stealing my belt would be a real shitty thing to do. Not to mention, they coulda just asked.”

“Would you have agreed?” Patty snorts.

Erin shakes her head. “This is all too theoretical right now. There’s no telling what impact using this other plane would have on our reality and on whatever lies beyond.”

“Something tells me the mayor doesn’t really care about that right now. The elections are right around the corner, and who wouldn’t vote for the man who found a source of cheap energy for everyone?” Abby pulls her phone out and taps away at the screen.

Holtz peers over her shoulder. “Texting your girlfriend?”

“She’s not my girlfriend, for the last time. I don’t do romantic relationships.”

“Sorry. Didn’t realize it bothered you so much.” Holtz grimaces. “It was a joke, but I’ll def stop it.”

“Thank you.” Abby hits send and meets Erin’s gaze. “You asked me before if I trusted Jenn--I guess we’re about to find out whose side she’s on.”


	47. Chapter 47

Jenn sits with her hands folded in her lap. If she’s at all intimidated by the four women standing around her with suspicious expressions, there’s no outward expression of her anxiety. Instead, she comports herself as if she’s there for tea rather than an interrogation. Erin chances a glance at Abby, aware that she’s likely suffering the most by this proposed betrayal. Like Jenn, however, Abby is doing a magnificent job of masking her true feelings.

“What can you tell us about the mayor’s side project?”

Jenn shrugs. “It’s pretty common knowledge that--”

“We’ve looked through all the publicly released statements,” Holtz interrupts. “Maybe change your tune.”

“If you’ve read all the documents, then I don’t think there’s really anything else I could tell you that you don’t already know.”

Erin watches Abby’s hands curl into fists, so she places a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “Do you want to sit this out?”

“No,” Abby snaps, jerking out of Erin’s grasp. “Jenn, if you at all value our friendship, you gotta work with us, okay?”

Jenn stares at her and fidgets. “Look, what I know isn’t much more than what you know. He’s looking into alternative power sources to help the city go green and to save people money on their electric bills. The cost of implementing solar or wind power was deemed too expensive or too unsightly, so he kept looking. I don’t know what he’s found, okay?”

“Why should we trust you?” Patty folds her arms over her chest and leans down; with her height, she makes for an imposing figure.

“I don’t know.” Jenn maintains eye contact with Abby. “I haven’t given you a good reason, ever really. But I love this city, and I know you do, too. You’ll do whatever it takes to save everyone.”

“Is that your final answer, or would you like to use one of your lifelines? I remind you, you still have fifty-fifty and phone a friend.”

Erin elbows Holtz. “Not now.”

Holtz snorts. “Things were getting tense. I don’t do tense.”

Jenn finally breaks her staring contest with Abby and looks to Erin. “She’s fine. That’s my final answer, so I’d like to lock it in.”

Abby relaxes, her shoulders slowly inching down from her ears. “If we’re going to figure this out, we need to work together, Jenn. I hate to say this, but if you’re not with us, we’re going to have to treat you like you’re against us--”

“I’m with you.” Jenn straightens. “I mean, as long as you can support your position that--what was it? The mayor is stealing ghost energy?”

“When you say it like that…” Erin wrinkles her nose. She hates when people think her work can be summed up so easily. Still, that does basically encapsulate their working theory, so she nods. “We can’t prove anything, yet, but we have some interesting evidence.”

“Show me.”

0-0-0

Holtz flops onto the bed and kicks her feet up. She watches Erin slowly remove her clothing, which gets placed neatly in the laundry basket. Although their day was particularly productive, she gets the feeling that Erin isn’t satisfied with their progress. She waits patiently for Erin to don a pair of flannel pajamas and to ease onto the bed beside her. 

“I didn’t know I was dating a horse,” she whispers as Erin curls up in her arms.

“What?”

“The long face.”

Erin snorts. “Very funny, Holtz.”

“Seriously, though. What’s wrong?”

“I’m worried about Abby.” Erin tugs her knees to her chin and makes herself as small as possible. She hurt Abby in the past, and she’s seen how badly Abby takes personal slights--especially from the people she cares about most. “What if Jenn isn’t really helping us?”

“Then Jenn is a really shitty human being,” Holtz replies. She traces her fingers down Erin’s arm. “And all we can do is be there for Abby, however she needs us.”

“You’re right. I just… I don’t have the best track record with her.”

“I thought you were best friends.”

“We wrote a book together when we were much younger, but my academic advisor cautioned me against pursuing a line of research dealing with ghosts. I took her advice. I went to Princeton for graduate school, and I left Abby behind. She called so many times, and texted, and emailed, but I--I didn’t know what to say. So, I didn’t say anything, until a man came to find me at Columbia last year.”

“Erin, you’re talking to the reigning champion of bad decision-making.” Holtz tickles her side until she laughs and squirms away. “A good friend doesn’t judge you for your mistakes, though.”

“No?”

“They judge you for your bad jokes and your tiny bow ties.”

Erin huffs. “My jokes are not bad.”

“Oh, of course not.” Holtz tumbles out of bed and sits dazedly on the floor, staring up at Erin’s wicked grin.

“Try sounding a little more sincere next time.”

“Yes, my queen.” Holtz bows down and crawls forward. “Might this lowly peasant approach your royal highness?”

“Indeed,” Erin states, dipping forward into a bow. This is a mistake, however, as Holtz grabs her shoulders and drags her to the floor as well. They tussle on the ground until Holtz has her pinned. Holtz leans down and kisses her, and she feels like she’s on a cloud rather than an old rug.

0-0-0

In the back alley, Holtz hands out her newly updated gear. For Abby, she’s created an advanced piece of equipment she likes to call the Spector-Detector. As she explains, the SD is wired up to sense all sorts of changes in the atmosphere, from pressure to temperature, and even polarization. Patty is the lucky recipient of the Ghost Glove, useful for grabbing a ghost that gets a little too close, while Erin receives a helmet.

“What does it do?”

“Protects your head from blunt force trauma.”

“Like, against ghosts, I mean.”

“Nothing, really.” Holtz shrugs.

“Holtzmann.” Erin yanks the helmet off her head and glares until Holtz places a sawed-off shotgun into her arms.

“It’s still a little unstable.”

“A little?”

“Totally safe.” Holtz gathers Patty and Abby and stands several feet back. “Just aim and shoot.”

Erin does as she’s told and winds up atop a pile of sandbags. Holtz helps her up and dusts her off, commenting quietly that she should have kept the helmet on. When Erin pushes her away, she laughs and turns to the others.

“So, every piece of equipment has also been outfitted with a panic button and global positioning capabilities. If someone goes down--and I’m not naming names, Erin--press the button, and the others can find Erin--I mean that someone.”

“This is neat and all,” Abby says, “but what about the chip? I thought that’s what you’ve been researching all this week?”

“Well… I took a break.” Holtz digs her hands into her pockets guiltily. She doesn’t like disappointing her friends, but she’s not used to coming up with nothing.


	48. Chapter 48

Holtz tosses Erin’s phone from hand to hand over and over again. Her mother’s number is pre-programmed, so all she has to do is dial and wait--but she can’t bring herself to take that simple step. Her nerves jangle, and her palms sweat. Well, she amends, she’s probably just imagining her palms sweating because she’s not entirely sure she can sweat. In any event, her hands are clammy for one reason or another.

She listens to the other ‘busters going about their business and nearly gets up to join them. Her last memory of her mother stops her, however; she cradles her head in one hand and runs her fingers along the phone screen with the other. Her mother had come for a visit, which was hardly her favorite activity. Her apartment at the time had been a complete rat’s hoard of circuit boards, scrap metal, and propane tanks--all of which, according to her mother, was a liability. She remembered how her mother had begged her to come out for lunch and how she had been too focused on her work to care. She’d pushed her mother away for what seemed like a good reason, and then she’d gone and died.

“You doing okay up here?” Abby plops onto the couch beside her and snatches the phone. She must see what Holtz is doing, though, as she pauses a moment later and simply utters, “Oh.”

“I’m super fly,” Holtz says cheerfully, extracting the phone from Abby’s loose grip.

“Thinking about calling your mom?”

“I haven’t spoken with my maternal unit in a while. It was just a stupid, passing thought.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid.” Abby sets her hand on Holtz’s thigh. “Seriously. If you wanted to do it even five minutes ago, that means it matters to you.”

“That’s the problem.” Holtz laughs uncomfortably. “I don’t deal very well with things that matter to me.”

“I can tell. You’re not making your momma jokes.”

“I would never.” Holtz presses her hand to her chest and pretends to be aghast at the very suggestion. “But if I did, your momma--”

“Holtz.”

“Sorry.”

“Why don’t you want to call her?”

“I wasn’t very nice to her the last time we saw each other. Or probably for a long time before that.”

“And you think that’ll impact your conversation?”

“I feel guilty,” Holtz admits quietly. “And I know she’ll forgive me, and she’ll be glad to hear from me, but I don’t deserve it.”

“I don’t think this is about what you do or don’t deserve.”

“Shouldn’t it be, though?” Holtz scrubs a fist over her eyes and grimaces. “It’s like, ever since I started haunting Erin, everything’s working out for me. But I killed myself. Accidentally, maybe. But still. I ignored what every sane person around me was telling me, and I flew too close to the sun. If you listen to the Catholics, I should be in Hell right now, not with a loving girlfriend, surrounded by people who care about me.”

“I think this is a version of Hell, don’t you? I mean, you have a girlfriend, but she’s alive, and you’re not.” Abby shrugs. “You have a taste of what you could have had when you were alive, and that’s all you’ll ever get.”

“But I shouldn’t even get that taste.”

“Did Erin tell you about the time she went off to graduate school?”

“She left you behind.”

“Yes, she did. And it hurt like no other. When she came back, it was such a weird mixture of emotions. I was so angry that she thought she could just waltz back into my life and so sad that I cared as deeply as I did. But more than anything, I was happy. Just because someone leaves doesn’t turn off how you feel, and if your mother loved you before, then she’ll love you now.”

“I know.”

“And I think everyone deserves that. To be loved.”

Holtz nods and presses dial. She doesn’t buy a lot of what Abby’s telling her, but she feels like Abby won’t leave her alone until she acts on her desire to hear her mother’s voice. Three rings go by, and then she hears it; Willa Holtzmann’s cheerful: “Hello, Erin.”

She hesitates before saying, “Not Erin, Momma.”

“Jilly?”

“Yes.”

She listens with a broken heart to the sudden sob coming from the other end of the line.

0-0-0

Erin accepts her phone and grabs Holtz’s hand. “How’d it go?”

“Fine.”

Sensing that Holtz is in no mood to discuss the conversation, Erin sighs and decides to try a different subject. “I was looking through those documents on Quentin again, and I started wondering about things.”

“What sort of things?”

“He doesn’t have a background in engineering, which means that even if he stole the belt, he’s likely not the one creating microchips from the design. So, I looked into his parents. His father wasn’t very interesting, but his mother had a Ph.D. in Bioengineering from Harvard.”

“Not quite my field, but close enough that her knowledge might transfer--depending, of course, on her intelligence and determination.”

“So, my working theory is that Quentin was commanded by the mayor to steal the belt in the hopes that it could offer some insight into the other plane. But he went home to a house haunted by not only his father but also his mother.”

“From his background, he was probably a momma’s boy--I bet he put the belt on her ghost--”

“And dad was upset that he was stuck as a ghost--”

“And attacked,” Holtz finishes. “That definitely makes sense. But why would she let her son get killed?”

“She has her hands on technology that helps ghosts manifest physically. Maybe she thought she could bring his spirit back.” Erin shrugs. “It’s just a theory for now. It’d be helpful if Jenn could tell us what Quentin was assigned to before his death.”

“I bet she’ll come through.”

“I hope so.”

“I just wanted to put this out there--you and Abby have a good thing. I… I’m a little envious. I never had that when I was alive.”

“She’s your friend now, too.”

“Yeah.” Holtz grins as if nothing’s wrong. “She got me to call my mom.”

“Did you want to talk about it?”

“We have plans to get lunch this weekend.”

“Oh, wow. That’s--that’s fast.”

“I’ve already lost a decade. Didn’t see the point in stretching this out any more.”

“Did you want me to come with?”

Holtz fidgets. “I’d be more comfortable, sure, but I sorta feel like this first time should just be me.”

Erin grips her hand and nods. “Whatever you need.”


	49. Chapter 49

When Jenn enters the firehouse the next day, Holtz has music blasting. She rocks to the beat, being a bit too cavalier with her tools, especially considering one is a blow torch. When she accidentally lights a roll of papers towels on fire, Erin tries to point out the error, with growing concern. She knows there’s a fire--but it’s entertaining to watch Erin panic about something so easily fixed. However, she spots Jenn and forgets that she’s supposed to grab the fire extinguisher.

Grumbling, Erin grabs it for her and douses the flame. “Seriously, Holtzmann? Not cool.”

“Mm.”

“What’s going on?” Erin turns and spots Jenn as well. “Oh.”

Jenn approaches and touches the volume control on the boombox. As she twists the noise louder, she says, “Holtzmann, can you turn it down?”

Holtz stares blankly at her. “Uh...?”

But when Holtz reaches to turn the music off, Jenn bats her hand away. Jenn reaches into her purse and pulls out a piece of folded notebook paper, which she puts in Holtz’s hands. “I just came to see what you guys have found out so far.”

Erin glances at the paper and then back at Jenn. “Not a whole lot, yet.”

“That’s too bad,” Jenn replies, not making eye contact.

Holtz passes the note to Erin, who quickly reads the contents: I think they’re listening. Jenn continues to converse, an inane line of questioning that reveals nothing on either side that wasn’t already known. While she does this, Holtz fumbles in a desk drawer, grabs the weirdest looking device Erin has ever seen, and presses a series of buttons. The device emits a low, steady hum, and Holtz turns the music off.

“Behold: the MiniJammer.”

Jenn nods her approval. “I’m not certain if they’ve slipped me a bug, or if they’ve bugged the firehouse, to be honest.”

“So, you are on our side?”

“Yes.” Jenn clears her throat and hangs her head. “I mean, I wasn’t at first, but--”

“But Abby,” Erin supplies.

“Right.” Jenn’s cheeks color. “And the rest of you, really. And the city. I think the mayor has gotten a little distracted by his power, and he’s forgotten what he’s supposed to be doing.”

“You worried you’ll lose your job?”

“Yes. But if this turns out anything like the--like the incident before, then we need to do something.”

“This has the potential to be much worse,” Holtz states blandly. She sits at her work area and fiddles with her blowtorch. “Then again, I wasn’t there. Wasn’t so bad from my plane of existence.”

“It was awful here, and you know it.”

Holtz winks at Erin, which saps any vitriol from her indignation. “Guess I had to be there.”

“I couldn’t bring you the actual documents without getting caught, but I do have some information that might be helpful. Quentin Smithe was working on the energy project, and there were several emails that hinted that he had been given a special job. Most of that evidence was beyond my ability to find, unfortunately, so I have no idea what he was told to do or why.”

“He stole my belt.” Holtz stands, her posture rigid and straight. “Nobody steals my shit and gets away with it.”

“Holtz, he’s dead.” Erin touches the small of her back.

“I’m dead, too. I’ll hunt him down and haunt his ass.”

“Can a ghost haunt another ghost?”

“I’m gonna find out.” Holtz punches her palm and shakes her head.

“How about we just let him stay murdered by his ghost-dad, huh?”

Jenn interrupts before the conversation drifts too far away. “Do you need anything else? I can try to find out more, but every time I try something, the chances go up that I’ll get caught.”

“No, thank you.” Erin offers Jenn a smile. “Sorry I didn’t trust you.”

“Based on our past experiences, I wouldn’t have trusted me, either.” Jenn gestures for Holtz to kill the MiniJammer. “Any idea when Abby will be in?”

“She and Patty went to investigate the commune, to see if there was anything we missed. They should be back in an hour or two. You’re welcome to hang out--”

“I should get back to town hall. But thanks.”

Erin watches her go, bemused and curious.

0-0-0

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come with?” 

Saturday morning arrives all too quickly, and Erin hovers at Holtz’s elbow. Holtz tries on three different before settling on a pair of straight-legged jeans, a graphic t-shirt depicting a cat in space, a leather jacket, and several decorative scarves. The shirt is baggy enough that the Life Belt is fully hidden from sight.

“A baby’s gotta do what a baby’s gotta do,” Holtz says, staring at herself in the mirror. “I promise I’ll text you all the details, and I’ll be home by midnight, okay?”

“You don’t have a phone.”

Holtz shrugs, but her nervous smile belies the cool calm she’s attempting through her jokes. “Then I’ll fill you in once I get back.”

Erin digs her phone out and hands it to her. “Call Abby is there’s a problem. She’ll come get you.”

At first, Holtz wants to refuse. After a moment, however, she accepts the offering and sighs. “I should get going. Wouldn’t want to keep mother waiting--especially not after a decade of lost time, right?”

“Right.”

Before Holtz can leave, Erin kisses her quickly and stays close, leaning her forehead against Holtz’s. They stay like that until Holtz draws back and cups Erin’s cheek. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

0-0-0

Despite that promise, Holtz drags her heels as she makes her way to the diner where she’s to meet her mother. A million doubts cloud her judgment, and she wonders if this is in fact too soon for a reunion or if her mother will be angry with her or if she can handle the emotional baggage surrounding the whole event. She stops a block away--she can see the diner’s sign blinking OPEN--and gnaws her lower lip. This is her last chance to bolt and run.

She sucks in a deep breath, cocks her head up, and struts to the diner, hoping all the while that her faux confidence will get her through the tough parts. She sidles into a booth a little early, peruses the menu, and orders a coffee to warm her hands. A few minutes past the hour, a woman with the same nose and shock of hair enters, and she stands immediately.

“Mom?”

Willa hurries forward and flings herself into a hug. Holtz holds her and isn’t sure which one of them is trembling.


	50. Chapter 50

When they part from the hug, Holtz gestures for her mother to take a seat. She feels as if she’s stepped into a dream-world and worries that any moment, she’ll be yanked from the moment back into reality. Caught up in the surrealism, she forgets to sit down, too, until the waitress returns with her coffee, and she flushes with embarrassment.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Willa admits after ordering her own hot drink. She toys with the napkin rolled around her silverware. Holtz recognizes the behavior as one of her own as well. “Part of me thought maybe I made up the phone call. I kept checking the log, just to make sure Erin’s number was still there.”

“Sorry it took a while.”

“Please, let’s save apologies for the next time we see each other. There’s plenty I want to apologize for, but for today, I just want to look at you.”

Holtz swallows past the lump swelling in her throat. “I can do that.”

“Erin tells me that you work together now?”

“Yeah. We help people out with their ghost problems. I know, a little ironic, given, y’know, how I am now.”

“So, it’s true. You are a--a…”

“A Ghost American, yes.” Holtz tries to grin, but the expression doesn’t quite take. “For better or worse.”

Willa processes this for a second and then reaches across the table to take Holtz’s hand. “You feel real.”

“I’m a ghost, momma, not a figment of someone’s imagination.”

“How?”

“Didn’t Erin tell you about the belt?”

“She did, but--I want to hear it from you. It’s been a long ten years. I want to know.”

Holtz licks her lips, breathes deeply, and explains everything she can remember--from dying up until this moment. She omits painful details, like exactly how it felt to burn alive, but the gist she provides is otherwise true. When she describes losing the belt, Willa gasps and clutches her, and she remembers being in elementary school and showing her drawings to her parents. Julian had cared, of course, but he had always been tired. Willa, in contrast, seemed to have a font of energy never ending for Holtz’s antics and art.

“I’ve missed you,” Holtz confides.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you, too.” Willa tears up, but paws the moisture away. “I don’t mean to cry. This is a happy day.”

“I feel like crying, too. But I can’t. So, maybe you could cry for both of us?”

And Willa does.

0-0-0

Holtz enters the apartment, her head buzzing. She’s tired, which is an interesting experience since she’s not prone to physical exhaustion anymore. She supposes this is a more emotional draining than anything else, and she’s dreading Erin’s line of questioning. Although she doesn’t want to keep the details from Erin, she just doesn’t feel up to having the conversation, yet.

Erin hugs her briefly and points to the bedroom. “You look like you could use a nap.”

Holtz blinks. She marches to the bedroom, curls up on the bed, and closes her eyes. A moment later, Erin sits beside her and rubs her back. The gentle contact lulls her to rest.

0-0-0

She awakens later, and Erin is gone. She heads to the kitchen, where she finds Erin fighting with a very large knife and a very uncooperative onion. Holtz waits until Erin sets the knife down before approaching and taking up the task herself. She may not know what Erin is making, but she does know how to handle dangerous equipment. Erin had struggled, but she slices and dices the onion with the greatest of ease.

“So.”

Erin leans against the counter and tilts her head. “So?”

“You haven’t asked about my mom.”

“I didn’t want to pressure you,” Erin says quickly. Her fingers drum against the drawers, and she tacitly doesn’t look at Holtz. “I’m sure you’ll tell me if and when you’re ready.”

“If I never said anything, that’d be cool with you?” Holtz slices the onion into nice, neat cubes and reaches for the potato balancing on the edge of the cutting board. She enjoys listening to Erin stutter through a response before interrupting: “It was good. We had a long talk, and we’re going to see each other again soon. You’re invited next time.”

“Oh, that’s--that’s good, right?”

“I don’t know. Did you want to come? I mean, it could be bad if you didn’t--”

“I mean that it went well.” Erin rolls her eyes, knowing that Holtz is just trying to avoid serious conversation with jokes. Still, Holtz is the one who brought this up in the first place, so she assumes this is a conversation worth pursuing. She wants to help, and she can only do that if she can get Holtz to explain what she’s thinking.

“Yeah.”

“If you want to talk about it--”

“I feel guilty.”

“Guilty?”

“Like that I get to just swing back into her life after ten years of being dead, and there are no repercussions. I shouldn’t get to do this.”

“Maybe not,” Erin replies, stepping forward and sliding her arms around Holtz’s waist. “But that’s the way your afterlife is.”

“I’m just having a hard time understanding why I get all of this now--when I wasn’t a particularly good person when I was alive.”

“Were you religious?”

“Not in a structured way, no. But I mean, I bought into the idea that if you do good things in life, there’s gotta be some reward later. And if you do bad things, well, y’know.” Holtz leans back against her. “And why me? I’m sure there are better people out there that deserve a second chance with their loved ones.”

“Maybe,” Erin allows, “but we can’t change that. You’re here, and I’m really grateful for that.”

“I must sound supes stupid.” Holtz laughs uncomfortably. “Here I am, the world’s most physical ghost, and all I can do is bemoan my good fortune.”

“You were dead for a long time--longer than you’ve been the world’s most physical ghost by a long shot. And so far, you haven’t been processing what that means. I think this has been long overdue. The pressure’s been building, and your mom just was the release.” Erin holds her tightly and nestles her cheek against Holtz’s. “So take the time to feel bad and guilty and crappy--I’ll be here, no matter what.”


	51. Chapter 51

Erin is miserably covered in ectoplasm. When she explains later that the goo went in every crack, she means every painful word. She doesn’t look forward to showering later and trying to scrub herself clean, especially since ectoplasm doesn’t react the way she thinks it should to water. Instead, it takes hours to clean up, and she’s so very tired of rubbing her skin raw. Getting it out of hair is worse still, and the longer she waits, the harder the task becomes.

“I’ll help you,” Holtz offers with a wink.

She denies this request and waddles to the bathroom in the firehouse. Based on how often she gets slimed, she keeps a spare outfit on hand, as well as a towel. When she finally steps into the heavenly spray of hot water, she sighs with relief and closes her eyes. Fumbling for the soap, she begins the arduous process of removing all contaminants. This is a fairly mindless task, so her thoughts wander through the most recent bust.

For the first time in two weeks, they came up against a ghost that wasn’t supercharged by a chip, which was a relief. She realizes now that she let her guard down a bit too much because she didn’t think a regular ghost would be hard to handle after all the hell they’ve been through recently--but maybe if she’d kept on her toes, she wouldn’t be scrubbing away right then.

Still, the bust is proof that having a fourth member makes everything easier. Then again, it could just be that Holtzmann is wonderful and efficient. The thought makes her snort and subsequently choke on shower water. While Holtzmann is definitely some kind of wonderful, she’s the least efficient person Erin’s ever met. If there’s an obvious, straightforward method for getting a job done, Holtz will purposely think herself into something abstract and strange. This is endearing, if detrimental to getting the job done. Yet, with Holtzmann’s help, they’ve gotten faster and better at busting ghosts. It’s backwards, she understands, but that’s the way it is.

She scrapes the last of the goo off and shuts off the shower. She dries herself off, dresses in her spare clothing, and heads into the lab, where the other ‘busters are hunched over their desks. Abby informs her that Chinese food is on its way, and she hunkers down next to Holtzmann.

“Get it all? Or you need me to take a look?”

Erin blushes. “I got it all.”

“Too bad.” Holtz’s gaze drifts all along her body and makes her feel dirty all over again.

She shifts and flushes hotter. “Holtzmann…”

“Alright, alright.” Holtz lifts her hands. “I’ll let your poor blood vessels contract. Besides, I think I found something that’ll help us track down our copycat thief.”

Erin brightens immediately. “What’s that?”

“So, I originally thought there was nothing on the chip to suggest where it’s coming from. But that’s really strange, isn’t it?” Holtz swivels part way and gestures to her work station. “I started thinking about it, and there are very few places where you can put together tech like this without some brand name getting stamped on a part or piece.”

“Please don’t tell me you have an illegal contact.”

Holtz shrugs. “I won’t tell you, but it sounds like you already know.”

“What is with everyone and knowing people who do things they shouldn’t?” Erin glances at Abby. “What about you? Who do you know that can hook us up?”

“We all know Holtzmann,” Abby counters. “Pretty sure most of what she does breaks at least a few laws.”

“It ain’t fun if it don’t.” Holtz grins. “So, as I was saying, I know a guy who knows a guy.”

“Who knows the guy who makes microchips for ghosts?”

“Right.”

Abby opens her mouth to respond, but Kevin’s holler interrupts. “Abby, there’s a Chinese man here.”

“Someday, we really have to pay for him to go to community college,” Abby mutters instead of her intended remark. “Or maybe just start playing some Sesame Street by his desk.”

“Want to come with when I go see him?” Holtz ignores Abby’s soliloquy in favor of directing her comment to Erin. Patty snorts.

“No, thanks.” Erin huffs and tilts her head back. “And don’t call me when you end up in jail. Either of you.”

“We’re not going to go to jail for visiting an old friend of mine and asking some questions.” Holtz blows a raspberry and flaps her hand.

0-0-0

When Erin receives a call from an unknown number the next day, she automatically assumes Holtz is indeed in jail, just as she predicted. She rubs the bridge of her nose as she answers. “Holtz, I told you, I’m not bailing you out--”

“This isn’t Holtz,” the gravelly voice interjects. “You may call me the Whisperer.”

“Oh.” Erin hesitates and wonders if she’s been transported into some nonsense horror movie. Never before has she been called by a complete stranger, one who seems to be using a children’s voice changing toy to modulate and hide their voice. “Okay, the Whisperer. I think you have the wrong number.”

“Am I speaking with Dr. Erin Gilbert?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have the right number.”

“Okay.” Erin considers hanging up, given the strangeness of the conversation, but she supposes the Whisperer will just call back. “May I ask as to the purpose of this call?”

“You will deliver the updated belt into my possession by this time on Wednesday.”

“Um, no, I won’t.” Erin laughs and then stops. “Is this a threat?”

“Not yet.”

The line goes dead, and Erin tentatively redials. The call rolls straight to voicemail, so she says, “Uh, hey, the Whisperer. This is Dr. Erin Gilbert. We spoke a few moments ago regarding what you’d like me to do, and I had a few questions. If you could get back to me at your earliest convenience, I’d appreciate that very much. Thank you.”

Realizing how dumb that sounds, she wishes she could wind back time and hang up before she opened her mouth. She runs her hand through her hair and paces the living room. She has this person’s number, she thinks, so she should be able to look that number up and find at least a name--assuming, of course, that the Whisperer is just a pseudonym. She hopes so, otherwise there’s a person out there whose parents really screwed them over.

When Holtz gets home, Erin tells her about the phone call, and they both set about using her laptop to do some digging. Unfortunately, the number is unlisted, and the effort just leaves them unfulfilled.


	52. Chapter 52

“I never thought this would happen,” Erin whispers to Holtz.

Holtz whispers back, “We have dinner every night.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Jenn smiles and leans against her elbows. “Care to share with the class?”

“Erin’s in shock because we’re out to eat, and I invited you to come with.” Abby puffs her cheeks up and lets all the air loose at once. “Apparently, I’m not allowed to make new friends and invite them to functions.”

“New friends that you’re sleeping with,” Holtz adds, as if this somehow clarifies Erin’s dismay. “I think Erin thinks you’re bordering on dating.”

“No,” Jenn puts in quickly. “If this is going to be a problem, I can leave--”

“Stay.” Erin stands abruptly, hands outstretched. “I’m sorry. I’m awkward and weird--”

“--awkweird--”

Erin stares at Holtz before continuing, “--but I didn’t mean anything. It’s just… different. But not bad different--”

“You might want to hush now,” Abby interjects, grinning. “Or you might hurt yourself.”

Erin sits promptly and presses her lips together. Whatever she thinks about the situation should be saved until she’s alone with Holtz, who will likely help her sort through things without making her feel ridiculous. She fidgets with her napkin and tries to focus on the current conversation, hoping all the while that her cheeks aren’t too red. Holtz squeezes her thigh, and she relaxes.

“The mayor knows that I’m helping you, but he hasn’t said anything.”

“Well, he did assign you to do that.”

“Really helping you. Not just looking like I’m helping you.” Jenn spoons soup into her mouth, swallows, and shrugs. Abby looks fondly at her--or the soup, Erin isn’t sure. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I have this awful feeling that something bad is going to happen, and soon.”

“Bad like you getting fired?”

Jenn nods. “I mean, I won’t stop helping you, but it’ll probably be a less official capacity.”

“Sorry I’m late, y’all.” Patty selects a chair from a different table and sits. “Had a hell of a time with the subways. Would you believe I don’t get any benefit from working for the MTA for fourteen years?”

“Jenn was just telling us about how she might lose her job.”

“Do we lose our funding if she does?” Patty frowns and shrugs at the incredulous look Abby sends her. “Don’t mean to be rude, but it’s a pretty pertinent question considering where we get almost all our money from. Think we can stop an evil ghost turned corporeal without money?”

“I find some good parts in dumpsters,” Holtz offers.

“We’d manage.” Abby sniffs and glances at Jenn, who sits very still.

“I hadn’t even thought about your funding. I’m sorry.” Jenn averts her eyes. “I’ve put the whole operation in jeopardy.”

“Yeah, but we do the same thing all the time.” Holtz snorts and waves her hand flippantly. “It’s comes with the territory of being one of us. Y’know. We operate on the wrong side of the law. Live fast, die young--bad girls do it well.”

“Holtz, you’re the only one of us who died young. You ain’t dragging the rest of us down that path with you.”

Holtz winks at Patty. “We do have belts now to help you maintain your current standard of living.”

“Oh, no. You take that snake oil and peddle it to someone else.”

“What if we offered to help.” Erin speaks loudly enough to gain everyone’s attention, “I know we said before that we wouldn’t want to use ghost energy as a power source, but what if we convince the mayor that Jenn got us on board?”

“I don’t know, Erin. We’d actually have to start giving them results.”

“It’s an extremely experimental field,” Erin counters. “Clearly, they were struggling before Holtz showed up with her super high tech belt to give them an idea of what to do. We could give them fake calculations and designs, and when they crap out, it’s okay because we’re not doing any better than they are.”

“You don’t have to do this for me.”

Abby considers the proposition, grabs Jenn’s hand, and nods. “This isn’t the worst thing we’ve ever come up with.”

“Remember that science fair project our senior year?”

While they laugh, Holtz leans back in her chair. She’s not sure she’s comfortable handing designs over to the mayor, whether they work or purposely don’t. People have always wanted her success and shunned her failures. This feels a bit too much like when she was younger--when she learned that her value is in the things she can create. She worked long and hard to free herself of that yoke--to base her self-worth on other factors, like her humor and her intelligence--but the old feelings still exist, deep in her stomach.

0-0-0

She pins Erin to the bed and bites her neck, a little more aggressively than she has in the past. Erin groans, even as she realizes that Holtz is likely leaving very visible marks in areas that will be very difficult to cover up. On getting back from the restaurant, Holtz had paced about like a nervous parent waiting for their loved one to give birth and then tackled her to the bed. She’d been stripped bare in under thirty seconds, and her skin pebbles in the cool night air.

“Not that I’m complaining,” she murmurs, “but what’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t know,” Holtz replies honestly, her hands gliding over Erin’s breasts and squeezing. “I just--I have a lot of energy.”

Hurt lances through Erin, and she struggles to stay in the mood. She can’t, however, and so pushes Holtz back. “That’s what I am? An outlet for your energy?”

Holtz stares blankly at her. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Well, that’s what you said.”

“Erin, I love you.” Holtz scoots forward slowly. “If you don’t want me to touch you, I won’t.”

“I want you to touch me but not because you’re too energetic to rest.”

“I don’t understand.”

Erin stalks across the room and fumbles for a pair of pajamas. “I’m just not interested, okay?”

Frustrated by this response, Holtz grabs her belt. “I think I just need some time by myself.”

“Me, too.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

And with that, Holtz removes the belt and zooms into Betsy, who Erin has set on the bedside table. Betsy staggers upright, falls to the ground, and marches out of the bedroom. In the morning, Erin searches the apartment quickly before leaving for work. She calls out a “Don’t get into trouble, and don’t light anything on fire,” as she goes.


	53. Chapter 53

Holtz stretches Betsy’s limbs and clambers out of the kitchen cabinet. She knows it was immature of her to hide, but she didn’t want an argument to start either of their days. She doesn’t want to fight at all, but she knows they’ll have to eventually talk through what happened the night before. She also knows that what happened is her fault, but she’s loathe to apologize if she doesn’t understand what happened.

So, that’s what today is for. She’s going to hole up in the apartment, go over their interactions, and be prepared with an honest and thoughtful apology as soon as Erin comes back through the door. She settles down on the bed, decides that being in a doll isn’t as much fun as being a ghost, and zips into the air above the bed. There she hovers, her hands behind her head and her feet kicked out in front of her.

0-0-0

“I don’t know.” Erin stares at her whiteboard, but none of the numbers make any sense that morning. Nothing makes any sense, and it’s all Holtzmann’s fault. If they’d had a chance to talk before she left, then she might be able to work properly--but instead, Holtz wasn’t there for her.

“Yeah, me neither.” Abby also stares at the whiteboard. She rubs her chin and shrugs. “What don’t we know about?”

“Anything, anymore.”

“Fight with Holtzmann?”

“I guess you could call it that. We had a disagreement last night, and she just walked away.” Erin hates when she pouts, and she is most definitely pouting. She’s an adult, not a little kid, and she should have a better mechanism for displaying her displeasure. Instead, she can’t control the deep crease of her down-turned lips or the trembling of her chin. 

“That was a short honeymoon.”

The comment hurts, and Erin quickly wipes her face on her sleeves. “Yeah.”

“Sorry,” Abby manages, setting her hand on Erin’s shoulder. “Didn’t--I didn’t realize…”

“It’s not your fault,” Erin stutters. She paws at her eyes again. “I’m the idiot who--”

“You’re not an idiot.” Abby grips her tightly and almost shakes her.

“--who can’t keep one damn relationship together. I’ve never been able to, so why I thought this would be any different, I don’t know.”

“Erin…”

“I should have just said yes last night. Then it wouldn’t have happened.”

“Slow down.” Abby nabs her chin and forces her to make eye contact. “First of all, you don’t screw everything up. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I don’t know why. What I did to you--”

“Doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But it should. How can you trust me?”

Abby grimaces. “I trust you because you came back, and since then, you’ve been nothing but dependable. You’re a good woman, Erin Gilbert, whether you care to admit it to yourself or not. Sorry, but the jury already came back with the verdict, and it’s not guilty. I don’t make the rules.”

Erin laughs wetly. “Abby…”

“So, tell me what happened, okay?”

“We got home from the restaurant, and she was sorta--weird. Like she was pacing a lot, and I think I heard her mumbling under her breath. When we went to bed, she was sort of--sort of aggressive.” Erin flushes. “I told her to stop, and she got angry and left.”

“Er, I don’t think you saying no is the problem. If it is, then I have advice for you: get the Hell out of that relationship.”

Erin rubs the back of her neck. “She’s never been like that before.”

“I hate to bring this up, but didn’t we have a theory about the prevalence of malevolent spirits versus their benevolent counterparts?”

“We haven’t talked about that since undergrad.”

“Maybe it’s time to start thinking about it again. Maybe being torn between two worlds isn’t the best thing for a person’s psyche, living or dead.”

“No,” Erin replies, shaking her head with more vehemence than she feels. “I refuse to have this discussion. Not yet, at least.”

“Oh, honey.” Abby softens her voice. “I mean, I get it, but this isn’t something we can just ignore. If her behavior is changing in a bad way, we have to have this talk. Better to have a backup plan, then--”

“Then what?” Erin lets her sadness turn into anger, too upset to care that she’s on her way to damaging another relationship yet again. “Then have to scramble for a plan to kill her? She’s a person, Abby--”

“No, Erin. She’s a ghost.” Abby loses control over the volume of her voice, and her tight grip becomes vicelike. “She was a person, and now, she’s dead. You either deal with the facts, or you wind up getting one of us killed later.”

“She’s not going to kill anyone!”

“You’re a scientist, Erin. Base your conclusions on evidence.”

“Yeah, like we did with our book?” Erin jerks out of Abby’s grip and shakes her head. “Do you want to know why I left for Princeton without telling you? Do you? Because you’re insufferable to anyone who disagrees with you. You’re right, and that’s all there is to it. Do you know how hard it is, to grow up with someone who doesn’t even care if someone else might have a worthwhile opinion or thought? I was dying, so I left--and it was the best decision I ever made.”

Abby stares at her coldly and points to the door. “You need to leave.”

“No, I don’t. I funded this whole damn team with my own money when we started.”

“You think that makes you boss?”

“Yes.” Erin pivots on her foot. “You know where the door is. It’s the same one you came in.”

0-0-0

Later, when the firehouse is empty and quiet, Erin curls up on the couch and cries. She doesn’t want to go home, but staying here feels just as bad as facing Holtzmann will. Patty keeps a small supply of whiskey in her desk for celebrating after busts, and she crawls over, retrieves the bottle, and drinks most of it. By the time Patty arrives the next morning, she can’t remember most the evening prior, except that there’s definitely a good reason she’s sobbing in Patty’s lap and trying to slam her hands against the walls.

“Baby,” Patty says, voice tender and careful. “What happened?”

“Don’t know,” she says, taking another whack at the wall. Patty catches her wrists and holds tight.

“Why you doin that?”

“I want to break my hands.”

“That’s not a good idea. How will you hold your proton blaster if your hands are broken?”

“I’m not a Ghostbuster,” Erin bemoans. “I’m a friendshipbuster.”


	54. Chapter 54

Patty allows her to sulk for half an hour; then, her patience dries up, and she shoves Erin under one of the safety showers they installed in the lab and yanks the cord. Erin stands under the spray and hates everything, especially the way her jeans are sticking wetly to her legs. When the watery punishment ends, she stands shivering and wondering if she’ll ever be dry again. Patty practically drags her out of her wet clothes, wraps her in a towel, and marches her to the location of her spare clothing.

“Get yourself dressed and then call Abby.”

“She won’t want to talk to me.”

“Well, guess what? We’re lookin’ at a weirdo with the technology to make ghosts even harder to catch, and we aren’t doing this job just the two of us.”

So, Erin pulls her spare clothing on as slowly as she can and then finds her cellphone where she’d abandoned it the night before. She unlocks the screen and hesitates a moment longer, until she hears Patty clear her throat meaningfully. Stuck, she hits Abby’s name and waits while the phone rings.

“She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“Jenn?”

“Yes.”

“Please put Abby on the phone.”

“I told you. She doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“I know. And I definitely wouldn’t want to talk to me, either.”

“Would you like me to give her a message?”

In the background, Erin hears Abby grumbling that she doesn’t want to hear anything from Erin, not even a secondhand message. “Please. Tell her all I want to do is apologize. If she wants to keep hating me, that’s fine. But just give me two minutes. A minute and a half, if two is too long.”

“You have forty-five seconds,” Abby says brusquely.

Without so much as sucking in a breath, Erin starts, “Abby, I know you were just being helpful last night, and I had no right to say the things that I did. You’re right, I do need to be aware of what’s going on, and it would be smart to have a plan ready, but I can’t do that without telling Holtz first. I was a complete and utter jerk, and you have every right to think I’m awful, but maybe, even if you hate me, you can come back to work? I’ll stay out of your way, I promise.”

“I’d rate that a 7.6. There was some real heart in your voice, but overall, your lack of groveling led to some serious point deductions.”

Erin sniffles. “Please, Abby. Please come back.”

“What you said really hurt.”

“I know. That’s why I said it. I lashed out, which was totally inappropriate.”

“I probably shouldn’t have pushed as hard as I did.”

“I’m sorry if this call interrupted something?”

Abby snorts. “Just breakfast.”

“So, will you come to work?”

“Yeah. I’ll be there. Don’t think I’m not still angry with you.”

“I understand.”

Although Patty suggests solving her other problem as well, Erin decides to read the reports supplied by Holtz’s connection rather than go home. Whoever created the chips is going by a fake name--the Whisperer, perhaps--so there’s no easy way to track anyone down. Thinking about the Whisperer reminds her that she only has one day left to figure out what to do. While Holtz doesn’t think the Whisperer is anything to worry about, she’s concerned what a nameless, faceless entity who knows who she is might do.

She flinches when a hand lands on her shoulder, and she spins immediately with her hands raised. On seeing Holtz behind her, she sighs. “Oh.”

“You didn’t come home. I… Well, I didn’t have a phone to call. And I know you probably needed space, but I was--scared.” Holtz clears her throat. “But you’re okay, which is great, so I should--I’ll go.”

“What was that last night?”

Holtz clears her throat. “I think I figured out what upset you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Fidgeting, Holtz resists answering for a full five seconds. Then, unable to take Erin’s unwavering stare, she breaks. “I wasn’t feeling too good about things last night. You guys want to give my plans to the mayor.”

“Because--”

“I was there. I heard the reason. Still doesn’t feel good.”

Despite her upset feelings, Erin can’t resist. “What do you mean?”

“People used to like me a lot but only when I made things for them. That’s how I made all my friends in elementary school. You give people something, and they’re nice to you for a while. It’s not permanent, though, and it’s not real. They end up wanting more and more, and if you don’t want to give them anything else… Well, there goes that relationship.”

“Holtz, even if you didn’t help with this plan, we’d still want you around.”

“I hear that. But I don’t--I don’t feel it.” Holtz presses her hand to her chest. “So, last night, I guess I got a little out of hand. I wanted to feel like you needed me.”

“That’s why I wasn’t interested. I never want to have sex because either of us feels like we have to. I only want to do it if we want each other that way. I wanted you to want me.”

“Well, aren’t we a pair.” Holtz’s attempt at a jolly tone falls flat. “I’m sorry.”

“I am, too.” Bracing herself, she adds, “Next time, please don’t walk away. I haven’t been alright since it happened, and it only got worse when I couldn’t talk to you about it.”

“I’ll try. But talking isn’t really my strong suit.”

“I don’t know,” Erin responds, smiling softly. “You did pretty good right now.”

Holtz beams. “I been thinking about this since yesterday.”

“I sorta got into a fight with Abby yesterday, too. She’ll be here soon, and she’s going to want to talk to you.”

“Why?”

It’s Erin’s turn to keenly feel discomfort. “I told her what happened, and she’s worried you’re going malevolent. She wants us to figure out a way to deal with you if that happens. I didn’t agree, and we yelled at each other, and I said some really harsh, unforgivable things.”

“I guess having a plan won’t hurt, but I don’t feel very malevolent. Mildly upset sometimes, I guess. Maybe furious on rare occasions.” Holtz shrugs. “But it’s definitely something we should think about. Do you guys have any plans in case one of you gets possessed?”

Erin shakes her head. “No, but we definitely should. We’ve been flying by the seat of our pants for too long. I think we just need to sit down and figure it all out.”

“Good.” Abby strides in. Her professional facade doesn’t break, even when she makes eye contact with Erin. “So, we’re in agreement.”

Patty follows close behind, and soon, they’re all cramped around one table. Over the course of the afternoon, they decide what should happen in case of all sorts of different catastrophic events, from earthquakes that damage their containment units to megalomaniac men who want to break the barrier between planes. By the end, Abby is willing to smile at her again, and Erin feels like she hasn’t totally messed everything up.


	55. Chapter 55

“What are we going to do about the Horse Whisperer?” Holtz kicks back, propping her feet up on the table.

“You know that’s not their name,” Erin replies, a hint of reproach in her tone.

“Jillian Holtzmann, with the National Inquirer. Senator Gilbert, you’ve gone on record as calling yourself an honest person. But once again, you’ve dodged answering the question everyone’s asking.”

“I don’t know, okay? We don’t even know what they’re capable of.”

“I think the answer is clear,” Patty announces. Everyone stares in her direction, and she spreads her arms and beams. “Y’all, we already figured this one out. Deliver something faulty.”

Abby grins. “Then, we’ll see who this asshole is without actually giving the goods to the bads.”

Erin hesitates. “But if they’re smart, they won’t just show up for an exchange. They’ll get some middleman to do the transfer.”

“Tracking device?” Holtz suggests. “Stick it all up in there, and follow it home?”

“They’ll be expecting that.” Erin dislikes being the one to shoot down all the ideas, but she feels like the others aren’t taking this seriously enough. “And what happens, by the way, when the Whisperer tries the belt out and realizes it’s a dud? Or what if the middleman wants us to show that it works before the handoff?”

“There’s going to be problems with every idea,” Abby snaps. “But we can’t just do nothing.”

“Why not?” Erin props herself up against her fist. “If we don’t give them anything, they’ll do something to harm me. If we give them a dud, they’ll do something to harm me anyway.”

“I can protect you.” Holtz stares at her very seriously. “I won’t let this dickbag get to you--”

“That’s the problem. We don’t know who dickbag is or what he can do, so how are we supposed to know if any of us can handle him.” Erin stands. “But you guys brainstorm anyway, okay? I need some air.”

She disappears upstairs, making her way out onto the roof. There, she leans against the cement rim surrounding the space and stares out at the city. She shouldn’t be this shaken, but she supposes her emotions have been through a metaphorical grinder recently. For all she knows, this Whisperer person is just messing with her--they’re just some idiot making prank phone calls. She doesn’t believe that, though. The Whisperer knew about Holtz’s belt, which is privileged information.

The only people who should know are the people in this building, Jenn, and those with access to Holtz’s file at town hall.

0-0-0

Holtz watches Erin leave before turning to her fellows. “Look, I have an idea, but I don’t think Erin will like it. Nobody knows but us four know that I possess Betsy rather than Erin’s apartment, right?”

“Well…” Abby hedges. “Jenn knows, too.”

“Okay. Then nobody but us four and Jenn know.”

“What’s your point?”

“I’ve been careful to keep the belt hidden, so what it looks like is pretty secret, too. This Whisperer dude has no idea what they’re going to get in terms of design. What if I went ahead and whipped together one of those prototype attachments for Betsy’s bag. We find out where Erin’s supposed to drop the belt, with Betsy attached, and then I return to Betsy when I take the belt off.”

“So, you go with them to wherever they’re headed.” Patty nods, liking this plan. “But then what? You’ll be locked in a bag or totally in ghost form. What could you do?”

“My guys, I built global positioning systems into like everything in this building. But to keep them from finding it, I can deactivate it before the drop, and then reactivate it later. I’ve spent a lot of time training my ghost self to materialize enough to move physical objects. I can press a button, and then you can come and get me.”

Abby eyes her. “You’re right, Erin would hate this plan.”

“But it might be our only real option.” Holtz grins, even though she isn’t quite sure this is the safest plan of action for her. Still, she promised to keep Erin safe, and she’s going to do that no matter what.

“What’ll we tell Erin?”

“Nothing.”

“But then--”

“I took her phone earlier. I’ll get the drop details right now, make the necessary changes to the belt, and we’ll go do it before she comes back.”

“She’s really not going to be happy. Like, I'd say pissed will be an understatement.”

Holtz grimaces. “I know. But… I’d rather she was safe. She can hate me as much as she needs to, as long as she can wake up every morning knowing she’s secure.”

0-0-0

After ruminating for a while, Erin decides that they should probably talk to Jenn about those working on the mayor’s energy project, if she can provide those details. The list of potential thieves the mayor provided before is likely nothing but a red herring, so they need a new list to work from--clearly, Quentin Smithe wasn’t working alone, and his partner is still out there trying to accomplish whatever their goal is.

They don’t have a lot of time, but if they approach this logically, calmly, and rationally, they’ll avoid doing something they’ll regret, and they’ll still beat this stupid Whisperer person. She descends the stairs, excited to share her plan. The firehouse is empty, however, and unease settles over her chest. Searching her purse, she discovers that her phone isn’t where it should be. She looks around the station--in the kitchen, at her work table, by the whiteboard, but her phone is nowhere to be found.

Her hands curl into fists as she realizes she’s been left behind for one reason or another. Furious, she heads for Kevin’s desk. Per his usual, he’s not present. There’s a note scribbled in crayon by the dark monitor that tells her the computer is breaked--totally not his fault--so he took the week off. Doubting this is honestly true, she turns the monitor on and discovers that everything is working just fine. Likely, he accidentally switched it off himself and panicked when jiggling the mouse didn’t bring his game of Solitaire back up.

She pulls up their staff information and dials Abby’s number on their landline. After a few rings, she gets Abby’s voicemail. She immediately dials Patty, only to get the same response. Not only was she left behind, she determines, she’s now being ignored. She slams the phone down and leans back in her chair. What this all must mean is that her friends are off doing something exceptionally stupid. They’re meeting with the Whisperer.


	56. Chapter 56

“Okay, so here it goes. Just like the text says--and seriously, no funny business, guys.” Holtz touches the belt as they exit the Ecto-1. They’ve pre-planned what they’re going to say and do, just in case anyone is watching the drop point. “Tell Erin I’m sorry, and that maybe we’ll meet in another lifetime.”

“We will,” Patty replies, grasping her shoulder tightly. “But I’m going to miss you, baby.”

Holtz hugs her with every ounce of strength she can muster. She worries that despite their careful planning, this will be the last time she sees her friends. She’s just glad that her last encounter with Erin ended in a positive way--otherwise she’d be off to face her uncertain fate right now feeling cruddy. Making sure Betsy’s bag, now painted to match the belt and obscure its contents, is secured to the belt and only removable by taking the belt entirely apart, she sighs and turns her attention to Abby.

“You take care of her, okay?”

“I will.” It’s Abby’s turn to hug her, and she’s surprised to hear Abby going off script, whispering quietly in her ear, “I’m sorry I doubted you.”

Before she can change her mind, Holtz pulls away and undoes the belt. Her spirit fizzles out, and she zips into Betsy as quickly as she can. Abby picks the belt up, places it in a shopping bag, and tucks the shopping bag under a dumpster in an alley. She glances around, but she doesn’t see anyone watching her. Once this is done, she and Patty get back in the car and drive slowly away.

0-0-0

“I can’t believe you two!” Erin storms around the firehouse. She’s beyond furious, but she can’t think of an adequate outlet for her negative energy. If she were a violent person, she’d be slamming things around and threatening her friends--but all she can do now is dig her nails into her palms and do her best not to cry.

“Look,” Patty says, lifting her hands in what is probably supposed to be a pacifying gesture, “not to throw her under the bus, but this was Holtz’s idea. It’s what she wanted.”

“That’s supposed to make this better?”

Abby, who has quietly watched all of this, clears her throat. “Erin, please take a seat. I’m afraid you’re going to break yourself.”

“I don’t want to sit down. I want to--I don’t know.”

“Wanna go on the roof and primal scream?” Patty gestures to the stairs.

“No. She’s going to sit next to me, and we’re going to talk through this like adults.”

Erin thinks long and hard about Patty’s suggestion; while screeching her anguish to the heavens would likely be a nice release, she decides she’s spent too much of her life panicking and stumbling through her problems. Abby is offering her a chance to do something different, so she uncurls her hands and sits.

“Okay,” she grits out. “What now?”

“I understand that you’re upset, but we do have a plan. We wouldn’t have sent Holtzmann away without one.”

Erin blinks back a fresh onslaught of tears. “What’s the plan?”

“Holtz installed an emergency button on the belt, back when she updated all our gear. It’s capable of showing us exactly where in the world the belt is.”

“Won’t they notice?”

“It’s inside the belt. She can reach it as a non-corporeal entity, firm up her body just the slightest bit in that area, and turn it on for us.”

“What if they detach the bag?”

“Holtz made sure to attach the bag inside, so the only way Betsy’s getting detached is if they take the belt apart. We figure that even if that does happen, they won’t do it until they’re at a final location of some sort, and Holtz can just use Betsy to get home if they trashcan her.”

Erin sucks in several deep breaths but doesn’t feel any calmer. Still, this news is good. This news means that Holtz has a chance to come back to her. She closes her eyes as Patty rubs her shoulders. There’s nothing she can do, she tells herself, so she might as well try to relax and be ready to go when Holtz activates the signal.

0-0-0

The bag is dark.

Holtz knows she has to stay in Betsy for a while, but geez, she hadn’t thought about how boring this is. As far as she knows, she’s still sitting in a bag, attached to a belt, in an even bigger bag--waiting for someone to come and pick her up. Stuck here, she’s alone with her thoughts, and she’s starting to think too much about Erin.

She should have said something. She should have trusted that Erin would support her decision, but instead, she ran away, and all because she was feeling bad. This was a definite way to be useful. The other women just have to recognize how integral she is to the team, even if she doesn’t provide them new and glorious designs to side-track the mayor.

Her thoughts are derailed as the bag is lifted, and she bounces down the street. She really hopes that whomever picked up the bag is the middleman or, even better, the Whisperer themself. Although she’s severely tempted, she doesn’t poke her head out and peek. This entire plan rides on nobody knowing about her presence until it’s too late, so she wrestles her curiosity into submission and listens as keenly as she can. There are footsteps, a car door, music, the sounds of traffic, another car door, and, eventually, a knock at a wooden door.

“Is it in there?”

The voice isn’t at all familiar. Holtz is mildly disappointed.

“I didn’t look.”

“Open it up.” The bag rustles around the belt. “Good. You can go.”

“And my payment?”

There’s a moment of tense silence, and Holtz is aching to see what’s happening. Still, she doesn’t move because she cannot compromise this mission. She hears a pen scratching and then paper being ripped.

“That’s not enough.”

“All you did was pick up a package.”

“We agreed before--”

“I am aware. However, your services left a lot to be desired.”

“I brought you the bag, didn’t I?”

“Go, before you really anger me.”

The delivery person grouses, and the bag shifts again. Holtz isn’t sure, but she feels like she’s going upwards--more of a bouncy stair upwards than an elevator. She hurtles sideways and then comes to a halt. The bag rustles, and the belt is lifted free.

“Come out now, darling, and try it on.”


	57. Chapter 57

The belt lifts upward. Still afraid of being discovered, Holtz holds still and hides in the bag.

“It works,” the first voice intones. “I would have bet good money they’d have sent a dud.”

“They’re good people,” a second person replies. There’s something wistful about his voice, although Holtz realizes she might just be projecting.

“And you aren’t?”

“I don’t know. Not anymore.”

“I do.”

“You have to say that. You’re my mother.”

“I don’t have to say anything. Mothers are not obligated to love their children, you know. You remember that friend you had in first grade--the one whose mother was an alcoholic--”

“Mom. Tim’s mom loved him, and her drinking had nothing to do with that.”

“If she loved him so much, she wouldn’t have drank herself into an early grave.”

“Mom!”

“Well, it’s true. You were too young to understand, but… In any case, that’s hardly relevant.”

“Then why bring it up…?” Holtz hears this, even though the speaker mutters quietly.

“Now that you’re here, we need to discuss where we’re going.”

“Where? I thought we were going to--”

“No.”

“But--”

“If we stay in New York, then they’ll eventually find us. You think they were quiet about that belt because they were just waiting on a patent? No. I will not let either of us end up as some sort of government lab rat.”

“But all the chips… Why make them if you weren’t interested in the greater good.”

“You are my greater good. I did what I needed to in order to get you back. Now that I have you, I no longer need to pander to the whims of others.”

While they argue, Holtz slowly extends her hand beyond Betsy’s doll-arm. She reaches into the belt, materializes the tip of her finger, and ever so gingerly presses the emergency button. The belt shifts, and for a moment, she worries that the wearer felt the tiny action. When the conversation continues without interruption, she relaxes.

“Besides, I’ve cooked up a distraction that ought to keep them occupied until we get far, far away. This is our only chance to escape undetected. I have no doubt that they tracked our messenger boy here. We won’t be safe here much longer.”

Holtz crosses her fingers that her emergency signal reaches her friends before this distraction causes any sort of ruckus.

0-0-0

“Are you guys seeing this?” Patty gestures to the television. “Like, this is some bad news.”

Abby sets her book aside and pushes her glasses up her nose. “New York City Marble Cemetery. Don’t hear about that place often. What’s going on?”

“Oh, about a dozen corporeal ghosts are wandering around. Not all of them seem malevolent, but there’s enough that all the pedestrians in the area have collectively lost their shit. Two people have gotten hit by cars so far.”

Erin doesn’t draw her gaze away from her computer screen. She waits for any indication that Holtz’s positioning system has been activated, and she really doesn’t care how many ghosts are wandering around Manhattan.

“We haven’t been called--” Abby’s statement is immediately contradicted as both their landline and all their cellphones ring almost simultaneously. She grabs Erin’s shoulder. “We have to take care of this.”

“We have to take care of Holtzmann.”

“As long as she’s on that belt with that button, we can find her later.”

Erin resists a moment longer. “I’ll be downstairs in a few minutes. Do you guys mind getting the gear packed.”

Abby and Patty exchange a look and then head below. Erin waits until they’re yelling for her to hurry up before standing. As she grips the pole and slides down, she catches a glimpse of the screen flaring to life. She hits the ground and rounds for the stairs--but Abby grabs her elbow and drags her to the car.

“C’mon.”

“She activated the button!”

“We will find her later. We have to deal with this.”

Erin swallows hard. If they don’t do this, there’s a chance they’ll lose their funding. The mayor pays them to assist the city, not tend to their own problems. She can’t jeopardize this group because of one member, no matter how badly she wants to. Additionally, she can’t leave Abby and Patty to deal with a horde of specters without her help. Three ‘busters is difficult, so only two would be impossible.

0-0-0

As they pull to the curb, Erin realizes prioritization is going to be essential. A man slides across their hood, screaming even though the spirit behind him is staring at the sky and not moving. While they need to take down anything making trouble, they also have to pacify the crowd and clear the area. Thankfully, there’s a police presence.

Then again, the police don’t look impressed when they exit their converted hearse and don their proton packs. Although some are pleased for their assistance, most jeer at them. How quickly New Yorkers forget, Erin thinks as she grips her blaster. Abby’s aggressive, so Erin doesn’t worry about getting the officers to manage the panicking crowd. She’s moderately concerned that someone might get shot in the madness, but she tries to maintain her focus.

“There’s one,” Patty calls, pointing to a grey shape in the distance that’s throwing a hot dog stand across the street. “Probably pretty important to stop that one.”

Erin doesn’t notice at first, as she’s spotted another ghost dangling a child by the pigtails halfway down the block. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to try out those sticky traps. We need to slow as many spirits as we can, and then capture them one at a time.”

“The police are finally clearing the area.” Abby approaches with a shake of her head. “You’d think they’ve never been around a supernatural disaster area before.”

“I’m gonna drop a BS flag on that play. We been bustin’ ghosts for a long ass time now. It’s not new.”

Erin can’t help herself; she laughs and then sputters to a stop. “I’m sorry. That was inappropriate.”

“Don’t break under the pressure,” Abby responds, grinning.

Grabbing the first sticky trap, Erin jogs toward the hot-dog-stand-wielding ghost and tosses the device under his feet. It bursts open, and he shrieks as he tips forward. Whatever Holtz has done to the trap, it’s working. Chest heavy, Erin hurries onward. The faster they deal with this, the faster they can rescue Holtz and stop whomever is behind all this.


	58. Chapter 58

Three hours later, Erin, Abby, and Patty march back to the car, pile their gear in the back, and sit exhausted in their seats. Erin feels like crying--there’s no way they have the energy now to go chasing after Holtzmann, especially because doing so will pit them against someone sinister. She wants so badly to speed back to the firehouse, get the coordinates, and peel over to Holtz’s location, but she desperately needs a shower and a half an hour to recover.

“Guys, this sucks.”

Patty looks at her tiredly. “I know. We’re still gonna get her back, we promise.”

“Was this part of the plan?”

“I’m gonna let that snide comment go,” Abby announces, “because we are all too overworked to use the filter between our brains and our tongues.”

Erin squeezes her eyes shut and nods. “Thanks.”

“Look, if we go after her now, we’ll lose. I don’t care if we’re fighting the little old lady who lives in a shoe.”

“She was actually pretty strong,” Patty says. “I mean, according to the rhyme, she had a ton of children, and she cared for all of them. Maybe she didn’t birth them all, but that’s some sort of good person right there for taking in needy children. I wouldn’t want to fight her. I’d rather go up against Old Mother Hubbard.”

Erin starts the engine while Abby flaps her hand. Listening to her friends grouchily discuss the merits of fairy tale women is a nice distraction from the way her body and heart ache, and she drives them to the firehouse without saying another word. There’s a minor fight over who gets to use the bathroom first, which Erin wins due to pity points--finally, she thinks sarcastically, some good has come out of her girlfriend’s horrible plan. She soaks until Abby pounds on the door, demanding that she relinquish her hold on the shower before the hot water is totally gone.

Patty scoots over to let her collapse onto the couch, and she leans against Patty’s shoulder. Patty reeks of ionic discharge, plasma, and sweat, but Erin needs the physical comfort and reassurance. Somehow implicitly understanding this, Patty rubs her back until the bathroom opens once more. Patty is quickly replaced by Abby, whose scent is a much more pleasant vanilla body wash and honeydew melon deodorant. Abby hugs her, and they fall asleep in a pile.

“Guys, you should look at this.”

Erin wakes slowly and paws the small trickle of drool from her chin. She and Abby disentangle from each other, clamber off the couch, and meander to the computer, where Patty points to the blinking icon that indicates the location of the belt. Erin squints.

“Is it moving?”

“Yeah, but not very quickly. Like whoever’s wearing it is jogging.”

Erin wrinkles her nose. “They’re heading… toward us.”

“Yes.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“I guess we should get ready? Somehow?”

“How?” Erin waits for Abby’s response with a cocked head. Abby sputters something unintelligible.

0-0-0

Holtz leans against the brick building, bracing her hands on her knees. She isn’t out of breath--mostly because she doesn’t breathe--but she needs an excuse to check if she’s being followed. Escaping had been a spontaneous decision after an hour of waiting nervously for pick up. While the global positioning system would find the belt eventually, every moment that passed left the potential that Betsy’s bag would be discarded. If she and the belt were separated, Patty and Abby would track down the belt and maybe never find her.

She’d waited until she heard footsteps leading away and then used the same body firming trick as before to unbuckle the belt. The belt’s wearer hadn’t even had time to get a cry out before he disembodied, and she stepped into the belt herself. She was in the Smithe house, which was somewhat ideal because she knew how to find the exit and quickly. She bolted down the stairs, out the door, and into the street.

Now, across town, her nerves are still jangling. She knows the other person in the house is onto what happened; she spotted the woman watching from a window as she dodged a car and sprinted down an alleyway. It was the same woman that she’d seen at the end of the block when she and Abby went to provide back up before. Based on the clues they put together before, that woman must be Quentin’s mother, whose first name escapes her. She decides to call this woman the Asshole because she refuses to use the lame Whisperer nickname.

New York is too full of people, she bemoans. She can’t tell if anyone is paying a lot of attention to her--well, more attention than anyone pays to someone who looks a little crazy. Deciding that she might as well get to the firehouse, she sets off at a brisk clip. If someone is following her, whatever.

When she pushes the door open, she comes face to face with the three other ‘busters, all of whom are dressed for a fight. The computer sits on the table nearby, which means they’ve been tracking her. She wonders why they’d track her but not come help her--but she supposes that’s a question for another time, when she’s not being hugged into her second death by Erin.

“Don’t you do that again,” Erin hisses in her ear. “Not without talking to me first.”

Holtz rests her head on Erin’s shoulder. “Yes, mom.”

“I’m serious.”

“I know,” Holtz replies, tightening her grip. “I’m just not so good with the talking.”

They split apart, and Holtz’s question is waylaid by Patty’s: “What the heck happened?”

“I got tired of waiting for you hooligans.” Holtz straightens her shoulders and puffs out her chest. “I’m no damsel in distress. I’m my own knight in shining armor.”

“Please tell me you at least go some information out of this?” Erin frowns. “Please tell me this whole adventure wasn’t a complete waste of my emotional well being.”

“I might know something important.”

Abby smacks her shoulder. “C’mon.”

“No. First, you gotta tell me why you were watching my tracker without coming to help me.”

“Right when Erin spotted your tracker go active, we got calls about a local cemetery releasing like all its spirits.” Abby gestures to a fresh pile of containment units. “Good news is that your sticky traps work like a charm. Bad news is--hot damn is it hard to catch two dozen ghosts with only three people.”

“How’d so many get woken up at once?”

“Someone apparently has access to Rowan’s files--I told you about how he went on his rampage by using our tech as a baseline. Well, now someone’s used his tech in combination with yours.” Erin glances at Abby. “And I really think we should consider recalling all copies of our book, editing out the dangerous content, and releasing something sanitized.”

“Who’d want to read that?”

Erin shrugs. “Even if they don’t, we can’t just leave dangerous information floating around out there.”

“I could write a case study,” Patty offers. “And Holtzy something light about the tech.”

“We’re getting off topic.” Holtz lifts her hands. “I know who the Asshole is.”


	59. Chapter 59

Holtz relishes in the sudden quiet her announcement causes. She lifts her hands, as if trying to silence overzealous applause. “Okay, okay. Thank you, yes. Thank you.”

“Holtzmann.” Abby stares at her. “Stop holding out on us.”

“So, there’s good news and bad news. Which you want first?”

“Bad news.” Patty’s response is almost immediate, and she follows up with: “That way we have something to look forward to.”

“Right-o. So, super bad news is that the Asshole saw me.”

“I’m assuming your asshole is our Whisperer?”

Holtz grabs her rear and shoots Abby a pained look. Her voice is a strained whisper. “Don’t you dare talk about my butt like that.”

“Get on with it.”

“Fine, fine. You really know how to suck the fun out of a story.” Holtz huffs twice more and then does as she’s bid. “So, on my way out, I looked behind me--and there she was, just staring at me from a window. This, of course, leads me to our next piece of bad news, which is that she might potentially run now that she knows that we know that she knows that we know that she knows--”

“Holtzmann.”

“And so on.”

“And the good news?”

“I’ll give you a series of hints--”

“No.”

“You can guess, and I’ll tell you colder or warmer--”

“No.”

“Then I guess Twenty Questions is also out of the question. Out of the twenty questions?” Holtz tilts her head. “No, that’s not quite right. Ignore that attempt at humor. Pretend as though it never happened.”

“I wish I could,” Abby groans.

“Drum roll, please.” Nobody moves, so Holtz rhythmically slaps her palms against her thighs, picking up speed until she announces, “The Dynamic Duo of Quentin Smithe and Mother.”

“We called Mary Smithe being part of this!” Erin pumps her fist in the air before she can properly capture her influx of energy. She immediately links her hands in front of her and tries to look professional. “What I mean is that our educated guess is supported, which is a positive thing.”

Patty snorts. “I don’t get why this is good news.”

“She wanted the second belt to make her darling baby boy corporeal again. This tells me two important things. First, as smart as Mary Smithe is, she’s not yet capable of producing another belt on her own, and second, she’s got a motivation that we can understand and use.”

Abby nods. “If she went this far once, she’ll likely try again.”

“Right. And since she’s staying in the place where Quentin died, we can probably assume that Quentin’s spirit is locked to a location rather than an item--so, we have the additional upper hand in that she won’t go too far away. Or, at the very least, we know she’ll come back.”

Erin hugs her again, and she clings to the embrace. She never feels quite human anymore, but in Erin’s arms, she feels real. After everything that’s happened, especially the part about leaving Erin out of her devious plan, Holtz thinks Erin has a right to hate her--to shove her away rather than hold her close. No matter what, though, she can’t fight this feeling anymore. This, or rather Erin, is home now.

0-0-0

Despite how amped up and ready they all are to take on Mary Smithe, absolutely nothing happens immediately.

Erin takes Holtz home, and for the first time in what feels like years, they’re alone together. At first, Holtz can’t figure out what she wants to say--she wants to apologize, to thank Erin, to explain herself--but none of the words congregate on her tongue. Rather than say anything at all, she fixates her eyes on Erin and lets herself be happy. It’s a weird feeling.

“Want to watch a movie?”

Holtz blinks. She thought they’d need to have some sort of discussion about everything, but she’s quite alright with letting things go for now. “What did you have in mind?”

“Anything on Netflix. I just want to be here with you. I want our lives to be easy, just for a few minutes.”

“I don’t know what kind of movies you’ve been watching, baby, but I’m not familiar with any that are just a few minutes long.”

Erin kisses her senseless, which is fairly easy considering how little sense she had to start with.

0-0-0

“It lives!” Holtz leaps back from her invention, bumping straight into Patty who is thankfully solid and unflappable.

Abby is less than impressed and folds her arms over her chest. “You’ve said that six times now.”

“And each time, it’s lived, hasn’t it?”

“Does it really count if it only functions for ten seconds at a time?”

“You don’t get to judge the quality of a life based on its length. Besides, I absolutely, one hundred percent know it’s good to go now.”

Erin laughs nervously. “You’ve said that five times now.”

Holtz glares at her with no real vehemence. “Are you questioning my brilliance?”

“A little bit, baby.” Patty sets a hand on Holtz’s head, an action that always drives Holtz crazy.

She’s short, damn it, but she’s taller than Erin when she wears the boots with the heels, and Erin doesn’t get this treatment. “I’ll show them all,” she mutters under her breath as she pushes the button and the containment flickers to life.

Abby pulls out a stopwatch, clicks it on, and times how long the machine will stay on until something inevitably go wrong. Ten seconds pass, and then twenty. At the full minute mark, Holtz takes her bows.

“Thank you, you’re too kind. Please, this is too much. I can’t accept this award.”

After a brief, impressed whistle, Abby shakes her head. “I’m sorry I doubted you, Holtzmann. This is actually working. What did you need to change?”

Holtz hesitates. “Well, it was just a matter of finagling the energy source to be more consistent. One of the biggest concerns I have is if the building suffers a power outage, we cannot have a dozen ghosts set loose all over again, right? But anything that’s self-generating or portable just wasn’t cutting it.”

Erin realizes where this is going and grimaces. “I thought we agreed that this was something we shouldn’t mess with--”

“I’m a ghost,” Holtz interrupts. “I have a pretty good handle on spirit energy, I think. And my plan isn’t to just draw on the spirit plane. What I’d like to do is tie each containment unit’s power to whoever it’s holding in.”

“We need to talk about ethics.”

Holtz rolls her eyes. This is not the sixth time she’s heard that before--in fact, during her formal education, she almost responded more to that phrase than her own name.


	60. Chapter 60

After two weeks of very little spectral activity, Erin decides that taking a small break is probably acceptable. She realizes that because of their workload, she hasn’t spent very much time with Holtz--and too much of their free time is spent talking about ghosts, worrying about the Whisperer, and debating theories. She knows that life is always going to be complicated in one way or another, but she needs a reminder that there can be simple moments from time to time.

With that in mind, she drags Holtz down to New Jersey.

“Seriously?” Holtz leans against the window, her cheek plastered against the glass. “New Jersey? What could possibly be interesting here?”

“You’ll see,” Erin replies. She hopes, anyway, that her surprise won’t turn out horribly. She didn’t ask Holtz about this little excursion prior to buying tickets, but she’s pretty certain that the event at MetLife Stadium will please Holtz. “If you don’t like it, we can just go home.”

“Did you spend a lot of money on this?”

“Some.”

“Then we’re staying, no matter what.” Holtz reaches across the space and squeezes her thigh. Ticklish, Erin laughs and nearly swerves into another lane.

“Not now, please.”

Holtz hesitates. “I won’t do it again--if you tell me where we’re going.”

“Okay,” Erin says, and then, when Holtz’s hand is gone, she adds, “We’re going to New Jersey.”

0-0-0

They get closer to the stadium, and Holtz sees a billboard advertising the event. Her eyes widen, and she turns to Erin. “Is that--Are we…?”

“Yes.”

“You’re taking me to monster trucks?”

“And motocross.”

“Holy shit!” Holtz palms the dashboard with both hands and then slaps down. “I love all of that.”

“I thought you might.” Erin keeps her tone rather bland, but inside, she’s ecstatic. She’s done something right, and she’d do anything to see that level of happiness radiating off Holtz.

“Like, literally, I wanted to be a driver when I was a kid.”

“Really? Not a mechanic?”

“Both, really. Build it, break it, fix it.”

The conversation flows easily between them, and Erin enjoys hearing these new little details about Holtz’s childhood. From what she can glean, Holtz’s parents weren’t always around, but when they were, they were wonderful. She can’t help but feel a little jealous as she listens to Holtz talk about the baseball game her dad took her to and the rain walks with her mom. She quells the feeling and instead focuses on how happy she is that Holtz had a good life.

She pulls into the parking lot, which is already starting to fill. There’s half an hour until the doors even open, so she doesn’t doubt they’ll find a spot. Rather, her largest concern at the moment is keeping track of Holtz once they get out of the car; she’s half afraid the exuberant other woman is going to simply sprint into the building without her, although she realizes that as she holds the tickets, Holtz wouldn’t get far alone. For a split second, she imagines putting a child-leash on Holtz, and the mental image nearly sends her into a fit of laughter.

Holtz is too enraptured with their date to notice. Erin smothers her giggles, pulls into an open spot, and turns off the car. Before Holtz can grab the handle and make her grand exit, Erin says, “Holtz? I’m a little nervous about this. What if someone knocks into your belt?”

“Then you just make sure to pick it up. I’ll be safe inside Betsy.”

“And when a panic starts because there’s a ghost at the monster truck rally?”

Holtz grins. “Then we’ll have the stadium to ourselves, and maybe I can hotwire one of the trucks--”

“Holtz!”

“I’m just kidding. I’ll be super careful. I promise.”

0-0-0

They sit in the stands, each holding a beer. It’s much too loud to converse, and she’s not too interested in the giant vehicles flying through the air, so Erin spends most of her time watching Holtzmann from the corner of her eye. The other woman is always animated, but here, she’s leaping about, jamming her arms in the air--and sometimes accidentally spilling beer on Erin--and adding to the already deafening thrum of fan screams and shouts.

She’s grateful that Holtz is so happy, but she’s even more grateful to get outside hours later and breathe in the cool fresh air. Holtz holds her hand, and their fingers knit together easily. There’s no hurry now to get back to the car, and their pace is slow even as people rush past them to beat traffic out of the parking lots.

“I mean, shit, it’s only been ten years, but just the level of skill these guys have now?” Holtz shakes her head. Erin notes how flushed her cheeks are. “It’s incredible.”

“Mm.”

“Not gonna lie, this was probably the third best part of my after life.”

“And the first two?”

“Hm, finding out that we made it past George Dubyah and not having to worry about brushing my teeth.” Holtz snorts at Erin’s crestfallen expression and swings their arms back and forth. “Sorry. Couldn’t resist. No, really, the two parts are meeting you, of course, and seeing my mom again. Other Top Ten hits include discovering the absolutely delightful sound of the vuvuzela, Leo finally getting that Oscar, and the super rare experience of kissing you.”

Erin halts and tugs Holtz closer. “Super rare, huh?”

“Certainly not often enough,” Holtz replies, her voice a breathy whisper. “Care to start rectifying that? I mean, it’s may take a life-time--”

“Or longer,” Erin interrupts.

She delicately places her lips on Holtz’s, uncaring that they’ve stopped in the middle of a stream of people. That doesn’t matter, especially when Holtz’s hands grip her hips and hold her close. Without a fight, she parts her lips to admit Holtz’s eager tongue, and she groans at how intense everything feels. A shot of arousal hits her, and she pulls back. Holtz watches her lick her lips.

“How about we get outta here,” Holtz murmurs, eyes still fixated on the quick dart of Erin’s tongue.

“Yes, please.” Accepting that she was a total hypocrite, Erin sprints for the car. She hears Holtz laughing and racing after her, and she enjoys the wind whipping through her hair. As she digs for her keys, she gets caught by Holtz, who pins her to the car. Holtz nips at her neck, and she moans before shoving Holtz back. “You have to behave until we get home.”

“Yeah, okay. But lemme tell you, you haven’t seen the best monster truck yet.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Neither do I.”


	61. Chapter 61

They get in the car, and Erin sits for several moments with her hands tight on the wheel. She sucks in a few deep breaths to help calm herself down and then, with a trembling hand, she turns the ignition. Holtz slouches in the seat beside her, watching her closely with eyes that appear to be mostly dilated pupils. The intensity of the stare blows her calm to smithereens.

“Holtz, look out the window,” she begs.

“I’d rather look at you.”

“I have to drive.”

“Find somewhere private to park.”

Erin shivers and bounces her leg repeatedly, trying to weigh the pros and cons of Holtz’s suggestion. The drive home is only thirty minutes, barring traffic. She’s an adult, and she definitely has impulse control. She isn’t going to give into her hormonal impulses just because Holtz is undressing her with just a stare.

“Holtz, I’m serious.”

“Sometimes, I think you could do with being a little less so,” Holtz drawls.

“Holtz.” Erin fights to keep from frowning. “This--this seriousness is the way I am. I… appreciate that you try to push me outside of my comfort zone, but I don’t want to have sex in my car. I don’t want to act like a teenager, and I don’t want to get caught by a cop pointing his flashlight into the backseat. If you want someone more spontaneous--”

Holtz immediately eases off. “Okay. I didn’t realize I’d pushed too far.”

“Thank you.”

0-0-0

As promised, Holtz is true to her word. She keeps her hands to herself until they are back in the apartment with the door shut and locked behind them. This lull doesn’t last long, however, for as soon as Erin sets her purse down, she’s tackled to the ground.

“Holtz, the bed is just over there--”

“I know. I’m tired of waiting. This is a nice compromise, isn’t it? Not in a car, but not in a bed?”

Erin cedes this point and lets Holtz quickly rid her of her clothing. She quickly forgets her discomfort when Holtz latches onto a nipple and bites down. A hiss escapes between her lips. Holtz switches her mouth to the opposite nipple and rolls the wet one between her forefinger and thumb, plucking the nub back every once in a while just to luxuriate in the variety of gasps and groans the action provoked.

She slides a knee between Erin’s legs, bumping up against Erin’s cunt, and nips a path to Erin’s throat. Once there, she leaves a series of wet, open-mouthed kisses to Erin’s earlobe, which she digs her teeth into and tugs. Erin grabs her cheeks and forces their mouths together, and she immediately dominates the kiss. She knows what Erin likes, from the sucking on Erin’s tongue to the catching of Erin’s lower lip between her teeth, and she sets about making sure Erin understands just how much she liked this quality time together.

She slips a hand between Erin’s legs and slides her fingers through the moist heat gathered there. Unable to help herself, she moans--that Erin wants her so badly fuels her desire for Erin. She eases back a scant centimeter and says, “Babe, I want you because you’re so fucking brilliant, and considerate, and hot. May I fuck you?”

Erin pants, straining down to make better contact with Holtz’s fingers. The question draws her attention away from her throbbing groin, and she yanks Holtz back in for another kiss. “Please, Holtzy.”

Holtz beams and wiggles her way down Erin’s body. She pauses just long enough to leave brilliant marks on Erin’s thighs and then takes her first lick of Erin’s clit. The sound Erin makes in response is just exquisite, and she keeps a steady pace in the hopes of hearing it over and over again, perhaps intermingled with her name. Sometimes, if she works hard enough, Erin slips up and screams for Jill. Holtz likes that because nobody calls her that--nobody except an out of control Erin.

She probes two fingers inside, closing her eyes at the firm slick walls clenching around her. Arousal coats her palm as she suckles Erin’s clit into her mouth and flicks her tongue, all while relentlessly driving her fingers, curling them, and seeking out whichever spots make Erin’s mouth pop open into a wordless moue. Slowly, she coaxes Erin to a climax, enjoying every moment even as Erin grits out her name, trembles, and tries to crawl away.

“Thank you,” Holtz whispers as she gives chase. “Today was pretty great. Definitely on that top ten list.”

Erin laughs breathlessly. “Thank you. Is that lame to say? To thank someone for this?”

“Not when it’s you,” Holtz assures her, brushing hair from her eyes and off her sweaty forehead.

“May I touch you?” Erin sits up a bit when Holtz grimaces. “I know you’re not into having sex, but do you like other things? Like a backrub? Or even just being touched sensually without trying to have an orgasm?”

“I guess we could try,” Holtz replies. “But--”

“It’s totally okay if you don’t want to.” Erin blushes and looks away. “I just wanted to offer. I want to, y’know, keep an open conversation about all of this. Is that lame?”

“Maybe we could start with a backrub?”

Erin meets her gaze and smiles. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“You could probably touch my breasts.”

“Maybe next time,” Erin replies. “We don’t have to rush into everything, or anything at all. This is whatever you want it to be.”

“Thanks.” Holtz removes her clothing but doesn’t lie on the ground--Erin instead drags her to the bed and props her up on the pillows.

She clambers up and straddles Holtz’s hips. With tentative fingers, she rubs at the soft, pale skin of Holtz’s shoulders and neck. She isn’t sure Holtz’s muscles can actually get stiff or sore, but she is sure that Holtz is enjoying this. There’s a satisfied smile curling on Holtz’s face, which Erin monitors closely. As soon as this is no longer fun, she plans to stop immediately. While she’s willing to respectfully test the boundaries of Holtz’s ban on sexual touching, she has no interest in pressuring Holtz into something neither of them will enjoy.


	62. Chapter 62

She’s been awake for about twenty minutes by the time Holtzmann stirs, and she cards her fingers through Holtz’s hair, which has escaped from its bun and splayed across the pillows. Holtz yawns and smiles.

“We might need to cut back on how well this belt works,” she murmurs, “because apparently I can sleep like a log again.”

“Did you have any dreams?”

Holtz trails her fingers along Erin’s arm. “Before I was strong enough to move objects or communicate with you, there were periods where I essentially didn’t exist. At first, they felt like blinks--like only a millisecond had passed where I wasn’t aware of what was going on. I figured it out quick, though, that a lot longer than that was going by. Sleeping is like that--a blink of nothingness.”

“So, no dreams?”

“No dreams.”

“I had one last night. We were trapped on a ferris wheel, and it was spinning faster and faster. I was really worried because we were supposed to do something in like five minutes, but the ride wasn’t slowing down, and we were going to be late.” Erin kicks the covers back and gets out of bed. She meanders to the closet, pulls a robe on, and dips her feet into slippers. When she heads to the kitchen, Holtz follows, exhibiting absolutely no shame at still being naked.

“So, what happened?”

“I don’t know. Suddenly, we were on a roller coaster instead, and we were going down one of the giant drops.”

“Your brain really needs to do better with the cohesion of its dream-storytelling.” Holtz leans against the counter while Erin sets up the coffee pot.

With her peripherals, Erin gazes at Holtz’s bare body, enjoying how the early morning light highlights Holtz’s musculature, particularly around Holtz’s stomach and hips. Her gaze drifts higher, and she takes in Holtz’s arms, which were clearly strong enough to work metal while she was alive. When she finally lifts her eyes to Holtz’s face, she finds Holtz smirking.

“Like what you see?”

“I do.” Erin hesitates. “Is that uncomfortable for you? That I like your body?”

“It’s flattering,” Holtz replies. “I mean, people can admire Picasso’s art without sticking their dicks in it, right?”

Erin snorts and rummages for a simple box of cereal for her breakfast. “I’m sure there’s at least one weirdo out there who would, if given the chance.”

“When I was eighteen, I spent the summer working in an adult video store. You’d be surprised how many people with penises buy animal-shaped sex toys. I’m sure there’s more than one person out there who’s gets off on thinking about touching all up on Girl Before a Mirror.”

“Just let me know if I do anything that you don’t like.”

Holtz nods, but the action quickly turns into bobbing--which escalates into dancing to music that Erin can’t hear. Regardless, she doesn’t fight being swept into a ridiculous foxtrot that ends with her laughing until tears leak out, and she’s clutching Holtz to avoid falling over. She knows they have to return to work that day, but she tries to soak up every moment that still feels like a break.

0-0-0

There’s a crowd outside the firehouse when they arrive, and Erin has to elbow a few people out of the way as she makes her way to the door. From the clamoring, she picks up that there’s a rumor about a ghost museum opening soon, and she wants to laugh. While she appreciates the enthusiasm, she’ll always be bothered by how people aren’t believers until they can see something for themselves. Her childhood would have been vastly different if the opposite had been true.

Holtz stands in the doorway, lifts her hands for silence, and announces, “I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Monica Lewinsky.”

With that said, she bustles past Erin, who immediately tugs the door shut to keep the crowds at bay. She shakes her head at Holtz. “Seriously?”

“Well, it’s true. I didn’t.”

“They thought you were going to address the ghost museum.”

“Why would I do that? It was much more important to lay to rest the rumor about my affair.”

0-0-0

Patty laughs so hard she clutches her side when Erin explains Holtz’s little stunt. Holtz preens proudly, as if this is truly something to be proud of, and Erin is left rolling her eyes. Her companions are goofy, she decides, and she loves them for it. She abandons them to their work--Patty writing up small histories of each potential ghost they will display, and Holtz some sort of headlamp--and tracks down Abby.

“Did she like it?”

“She did. Thanks for suggesting it.”

Abby shrugs. “I just figured… after everything, I wanted to show you that I support it. You and her, I mean.”

Erin hugs her. “That means a lot to me.”

“I took our best friends for life pledge very seriously.”

“You’re the best.”

“Can’t argue with that.” Abby pats her back and shifts away. “While you two were out, Patty and I went through the records of all our contained ghosts. We think we have about ten or so that might make interesting exhibits.”

“Please tell me you ruled out anything above a class two.”

“There’s a reason we didn’t ask for Holtz’s advice on this. We want a money-making museum, not a liability that’ll increase our insurance just by existing.”

“What’s the timeline look like?”

“We need a month or so to build enough displays and probably another few weeks to test them thoroughly. Patty wants to get official information plates created, so that could take a while, too. The goal is to be up and running by August, so local schools can arrange field trips this school year.”

“Any news on Mary?”

“None. I’d like to think that no news is good news, but when we’re dealing with an angry ghost…”

“Did you or Patty find anything at the house?”

“Nothing.”

Erin grimaces and nods. “We’ll just have to keep our eyes out, then.”

“Before you ask, Jenn is doing everything she can on her end.” Abby rubs her forehead, and Erin senses that something is wrong.

“Want to talk about it?”

Abby hesitates but nods. “Things haven’t been great lately. Ever since we suspected her of not being on our side, she hasn’t really been into it, and it feels like college all over again.”

“What do you mean?”

“I slept around a lot.”

“Yeah?”

“And I felt used a lot, too. Like it didn’t matter that they were having sex with me--just that they were having sex, and I wanted to be liked, so I didn’t say anything.”

“You were always so confident about it all.”

“You know what they say--fake it ‘til you make it.”

Erin hugs her again.


	63. Chapter 63

“All I’m saying is that sometimes we end up in dark places. Ghosts love fucking with electricity. It’s like our time-honored traditional pastime.”

Erin picks up the headlamp, her skepticism clear on her face. She knows Holtz has been working hard, but she thought those efforts were directed toward a product that would be more helpful. To learn that this headlamp is simply an illumination device is minutely disappointing.

“It’s great,” she manages weakly.

Holtz rolls her eyes and snags the lamp back. “If you don’t like it, you don’t have to use it. But don’t be jealous when Abby and Patty can see, and you’re fumbling around in the dark.”

“I like it.”

“Man, I hope you learn to lie better before our first kid.”

There’s a moment of silence. Holtz is no longer paying attention, and Erin can’t quite move past that statement. She returns to her desk and tries to work on her theories--but instead, she props her cheek in her palm and imagines what having a child with Holtz would be like. She can’t imagine either of them caring for a baby, so her thoughts immediately flit to adoption, maybe a seven to ten-year-old girl who needs a place to fit in.

As much as she’s loathe to admit it, she’d be the lame parent. Her attempts at connecting with the child would probably work for a few years, but as soon as the child became the teenager, she’d just be grating and annoying--an adult painfully playing at being young again. Holtz, on the other hand, will always be the favorite: the fun parent who’s fast and loose with rules and bedtime.

She fiddles with her pencil, twirling it around her fingers as she stares at her equations. Both parts of parenting are important, or so she’s come to believe, but it’s obvious which parent is more enjoyed by children. Whatever else happens, she resolves to believe the child, even if they claim to have seen a three-eyed monster under their bed. Ghosts are real, so who knows what else is possible.

“You look really lost in thought.” Holtz hops onto her desk, crunching and crumpling papers under her.

Erin sputters at the destruction of her personal property but sighs, knowing that she hasn’t actually lost anything. “Shouldn’t you be working on your light?”

“Maybe.” Dragging out the vowel sounds, Holtz turns what should be very short two syllables into a ten-second-long affair. She leans forward and twirls a few strands of Erin’s hair around one finger. “You still stuck on me bringing up kids?”

“What? No.”

“I’m sorry to flip your lid so hard. I thought you’d be down with the idea. I could definitely get behind a little Erin Junior.”

“Oh, please.” Erin flaps her hand. “No…”

“I think that’d be cute. I mean, one of you is great, so I imagine two would be supremely awesome.”

There’s a glint in Holtz’s eye that makes Erin think this is an attempt to lighten her mood rather than a serious comment. She smiles and shoos Holtz off her materials. “Really? Because a little you might be too much for us to handle.”

“I’ll have you know that I was a fantastic child.”

“Fantastically wild?”

Holtz feigns disbelief, throwing her hand over her heart and jerking her head back with an aghast gasp. They’re still laughing when Patty crests the stairs with a few different synopses to double-check before printing. After reading them all, Erin looks at Patty with an enormous amount of respect.

“How’d you find all of this out?”

“The public library has a lot more to offer than free romance novels, Erin.”

Erin blushes. “I don’t--”

“She buys them,” Holtz confides. “She’d hate to have to return them after two weeks.”

“Holtzmann!”

Patty snickers and hides her grin behind her hand. “Well, we all have our vices.”

“What’s yours?”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you,” Patty counters. “What do y’all think of them?”

“I think they’re brilliant,” Erin replies honestly. She hands the pile back. “I can’t believe how much history you dug up.”

“I thought it might be cool to include a bit about the time period each ghost is from. Y’know, give some context.”

“I think that’s perfect.” Erin tilts her head toward Holtz. “Don’t you think so?”

“Hell yeah. Gotta educate the children. But you couldn’t have chosen more interesting ghosts? We have so many that would make people poop themselves--”

“That is not the goal, Holtz, and you know it.”

0-0-0

“I was thinking.” Erin speaks up, unwittingly interrupting a lively conversation about the Olympics. She bites her tongue when nobody responds, except Holtz who places a hand on her thigh.

“Guys, I think Erin’s brain has something to say.”

Abby and Patty look at her curiously, and Erin feels immensely grateful to Holtz. She could have definitely spoken up on her own, but she’s glad someone will do the yelling for her.

“We have a way of displaying ghosts.”

“It took you this long to process that?” Abby shakes her head. “Erin, sweetie--”

“No, I mean, if we catch a specific ghost, maybe we can get specific answers.” Erin looks around the table eagerly.

“We’ve never tested one with a ghost capable of thought,” Holtz puts in slowly. “And you guys yell at me about ethics--can we really justify imprisoning a thinking creature? Would you be comfortable imprisoning me?”

“Depends on what you did.” Patty grins as Holtz bats at her shoulder.

“Would it be any worse than just keeping the ghost in a containment unit? I mean, that’s what we’d do in the alternative,” Abby gestures to the small pile that’s waiting to be sorted and stored.

“I just think there’s a difference between capture and display.” Holtz recognizes that she might be a bit bias in this regard, but she holds her ground. She also realizes that very few ghosts are in her position; then again, if both Quentin and his mother were able to become ghosts capable of thought after donning the belts, then there were huge questions lingering around the capability of her technology. 

“It wouldn’t have to be for long, and it wouldn’t be for the public. I’m not talking about solving some age-old mystery. I’m talking about a very specific problem. We know Quentin Smithe is haunting his old home, and he might know what his mother is up to.”

“He could also act as bait,” Abby says slowly. “We could draw her out if she knew her son was being held captive by us.”


	64. Chapter 64

Erin can’t stop thinking. She lies in bed, stares at the ceiling, and wonders if this life with Holtzmann is sustainable. She doesn’t mind that Holtz is a ghost--no, if that were a problem, she wouldn’t be so content that Holtz is cuddled up against her back, nose nested against her neck and hand splayed against her middle. Instead, she worries about how much she worries. She’s vaguely aware that her period is around the corner, which almost always correlates with a downward swing of her self-image, but knowing this fact does nothing to soothe her restless mind.

Holtz shifts, and suddenly, there’s a hand cupping her breast. Despite the location, there’s nothing sexual about the touch. Rather than stimulate her, Holtz’s grip provides her some small comfort, and she covers Holtz’s hand with hers. Holtz murmurs something in her ear; although she doesn’t understand the unintelligible words, she appreciates the sound of Holtz’s hushed voice. She smiles and snuggles back in. 

Because she’s safe and warm, her mind finally slows. She closes her eyes and sleeps.

0-0-0

She works quietly at her desk, scribbling down notes and scratching through incorrect figures. As a graduate student, she’d found this sort of work asinine, but she’s settled into the necessity of it. If she doesn’t do this now, there’s a chance she’ll discover an error much further down the line that will screw everything up. Close and careful work near the beginning saves the horrible heartbreak of the realization that several months of work are based on a mistake.

There’s music pumping through the firehouse. Mostly, she prefers working in quiet atmospheres where her mind can’t get distracted too easily. However, she knows this music comes from Holtz, and this small fact keeps her from getting frustrated. She hums along with the tune, and somehow the work goes a little faster.

Her stomach rumbles late in the afternoon, and she realizes she missed lunch. When she looks up, she spots a plate with a sandwich balancing on the edge of her desk. There’s nobody else around, so she pulls the plate over and takes a bite. The sandwich is just peanut butter and jelly, but it hits the spot. A little later, Holtz collects the plate with a wink.

0-0-0

The meeting with Holtz’s mother is almost too intense, and Erin sits in the booth with her hands tightly clasped in her lap. She’s glad she wasn’t invited to the first meeting because her emotions are running high and nervous for this third meeting. The second time Holtz went to lunch with Willa, she’d been regrettably stuck with a prior engagement. Now, on a bland Tuesday morning, she’s finally got the chance to see the two together--to better understand Holtz.

She thought she’d be excited, but instead, her stomach churn, and she feels a bit like puking, which is absurd because she’s not the one who’s supposed to be this uptight. Swallowing is also difficult.

She gets tea, rather than her usual coffee and tells the waitress to put in a healthy helping of honey. Holtz gazes at her questioningly, but she brushes the concern away. She tries to ask Willa questions about Holtz’s childhood, but her concentration just will not stay in one place. Finally, Willa reaches across the space and presses a hand to her forehead.

Breakfast ends abruptly as Holtz hurries her to the clinic near their apartment, where they spend the early afternoon determining that she has strep throat. She fights the diagnosis because she never gets sick, not even when everybody else does, but Holtz insists she take it easy for at least the next week or two. The doctor sends them to the pharmacy, where they pick up a gross pink syrup that she’s to take twice a day.

When Holtz forces her into bed, she grumbles, grouses, and complains until Holtz gives her a romance novel, a mug of tea, and a kiss on the cheek.

0-0-0

By the time she returns to work, she feels like she’s wasted too much time. Abby assures her that this is hardly the case--that they’re just getting ready to insert their first ghost into the containment unit for testing. She suits up with Patty and Holtzmann, and they stand at the ready, waiting for something to go wrong as Abby slides the container into the display and releases the trap remotely. A haggard woman zooms up, only to knock into the glass top of the display. She settles down and sets to moaning, a low, grating noise that Erin immediately hates.

They also test the emergency shut down system, which sucks the ghost back inside, as well as how resistant the display is to fists knocking on it. Everything seems to be functioning appropriately, so each of them sets about creating a different display. The first floor of the firehouse, formerly their separate work areas, has been sacrificed for their museum, and the ten displays go up quickly. Patty proudly affixes her little snippets of historical knowledge, and they all stand near the door and admire their hard work.

Their first customer is a harried mother with her ten-year-old daughter and nine-year-old friend. They spend the most time looking at a child ghost from the 1830s that stares at them with wide, doleful eyes. Soon, the first floor is flooded with interested tourists and New Yorkers alike, and Erin is glad to see that Patty is receiving more attention than she can probably handle. People are asking anything and everything, from the firehouse to the ghosts, and even the city’s history. Patty takes her time to answer each question fully, especially if the asker is a child.

Holtz has a small group surrounding her, too. Her mob is entirely children who want to know everything about to fight ghosts. Some of them claim they’ve got a ghost in their house; Holtz spends an extra few minutes with these. Erin wishes she’d had someone like Holtz when she was younger.

Abby stands beside her, surveying their little kingdom and holds her hand. They’ve come a long way since they met in high school, Erin thinks. She squeezes Abby’s hand, and when Abby looks at her, she smiles. Abby mirrors the expression, and a silent moment of understanding passes between them. Erin decides that this, right here and now, is exactly what she wants from her life.


	65. Chapter 65

“On your left!”

Erin dodges right, and a chair smashes the wall where she was previously. She releases a sigh of relief before running forward with her blaster aimed at one of two very angry spirits wreaking havoc on a family-owned and operated pizzeria several blocks from the firehouse. Abby claims that this place rates the best on sauce and mouth-feel, even if their crust is a little too greasy to place higher than fifth on her list of best pizzerias in Manhattan. Erin hates that this is what she’s thinking about while hunting ghosts.

Thankfully, her teammates are paying more attention to the situation than she is. One of Holtz’s sticky traps is deployed, which slows down the more vicious of the pair, while Patty and Abby wrangle the lesser ghost into a trap. Erin manages to help at the last second, so she doesn’t feel entirely like deadweight. They’ve assured her multiple times that she’s still recovering from the strep throat, so she ought to be taking it easy anyway, but she doesn’t like using her illness as an excuse--especially after getting doctor clearance that she could return to active duty.

Before the second ghost enters its trap, it spews slime at her, and she stands there, dripping and sighing. She likes doing this, she reminds herself. This is her chosen job, and she’s very happy to have this opportunity. Holtz laughs from a distance, and she repeats her mantra over and over again. Accepting her fate is much easier when Holtz wipes the slime from her cheeks and kisses her.

“That’s a nice look, Erin.”

“Oh, be quiet,” she replies, smiling.

“That is a physical impossibility, my dear. I was born to talk, and if you think otherwise, then allow me to disabuse you of the notion--”

“Holtzmann, please.” Patty lifts her hand to halt Holtz’s chatter, but Holtz merely slaps her a high-five.

“Is that for the great work I did today?”

“Sure.”

Erin watches Patty roll her eyes and wants to laugh--but doing so will only continue the conversation, so she bites her tongue and averts her gaze. Abby approaches carrying a trap, so Erin moves forward and grabs one end.

“We’re getting good at this,” Abby comments, grinning at her.

“Almost like we’re professionals,” Erin returns.

They secure the two containers in the rear of the Ecto-1, and Erin plops down in the car. She’s getting a little too used to being coated with ectoplasm, she considers. Rather than want to peel her skin from her face, she resigns herself to a nice shower later and maybe an exfoliating rub to clear her pores. It’s almost an excuse to treat herself.

0-0-0

Holtz isn’t sure she should be doing this without Erin’s knowledge; she’d promised after The Incident that she’d tell Erin when she was going to do something dangerous, but here she is, breaking that promise. Abby swears up and down that this won’t be dangerous, but Holtz can’t agree without reservation. They’re at the Smithe residence to capture Quentin’s ghost, and Holtz can only wish that the rest of the team was with them. Instead, it’s her, Abby, and Jenn, who wants to get a little more hands-on with their operation. She thinks something strange is going on between Abby and Jenn, but she learned pre-death to avoid unnecessary drama while doing a job.

Unfortunately, Kevin has proven himself inept at selling tickets to the museum and keeping things peaceful and orderly. The last time he’d been left in charge, they’d come back to several customer complaints and a bleeding child. Rather than let that happen again, one of them took up the duty of running the museum each day, and if none of them could be around, they apologetically closed their doors for the afternoon.

Patty is running things this afternoon, while Erin is stuck meeting with the mayor’s office. Abby claims that Erin would totally be in on this if she weren’t busy, although she rejects Holtz’s desire to call Erin and tell her what’s up.

They sneak into the house, just in case Mother Smithe is still around, plotting her revenge or doing something dastardly. When the crime scene is deemed clear, Abby orders her to bring out the new device she created only weeks ago. She places the circular disc on the ground in the room where they found Quentin’s body and activates it remotely. It whirs to life, and if she were standing within thirty feet, she’d be drawn forward. Using the same concept as the traps, this device pulls on a spirit’s form, tangling ions together to make a ghost visible.

She made it to make the process of ghost hunting quicker and easier--rather than running around a purportedly haunted house, all they have to do now is determine which room is the hub for most of the activity, toss down the disc, and wait for the ghost to get too close. Bam, Holtz thinks--instant ghost finding. Well, not exactly instant. She’s aware that this is still a bit of a crapshoot because the ghost does have to come close enough to get drawn in.

Capturing Quentin’s spirit is depressingly easy. When he appears, he doesn’t do much more than lift his hands and wait for the trap to suck him in. Holtz makes eye contact and feels something sinking her stomach; admittedly, this could have been the pizza from the night before taking its time through her digestive tract, but she’s rather certain that the feeling is actually empathy. If Erin hadn’t fought so hard against capturing her, she could be in the same position. The thought makes her feel queasy, and the pizza nearly resurfaces.

“You okay?” Jenn sets a hand on her arm, and she forces a smile onto her lips.

“Totes.”

“You just look--”

“Fantastic? Thank you. I know.”

Jenn cocks an eyebrow, but lets the matter go. Holtz is grateful, and they return to the firehouse without much chitchat. If she were more intent on meddling, she would have tried to instigate a conversation between Abby and Jenn, who are stoically not paying attention to each other--but she has her own problems to consider. They take the container up to the second floor, where a display unit has been prepped for Quentin’s arrival. He’s inserted and released.

Jenn peers at him. “So, you really did it?”

Quentin drifts around the box, looking at his new environment. He places his hands on the glass, tests the boundary, and then floats center once more. Jenn waits expectantly for an answer, but he says nothing--just stares. Holtz detects a ghostly tear dripping down his cheek.


	66. Chapter 66

After an hour, Jenn leaves, and Holtz and Abby continue asking Quentin questions without any success. Holtz eventually drags a chair over and spins in circles while Abby persists, but even Abby can’t keep it up forever. She leans against the display and closes her eyes. Holtz scoots closer.

“I thought we’d caught our white whale, Captain Abhab.”

“We have,” Abby groans back. “But we didn’t consider if the whale could talk.”

Holtz shrugs. “Maybe he can, and he’s just not ready to, yet.” She hesitates. “Or, I mean, if you want, I could build him another belt.”

“No. The last thing we need is another belt that could potentially fall into the wrong hands. We’ll work with what we’ve got. If we don’t get any answers from him, we’re no worse off than when we started, right?”

“Except now we’ve potentially got a malevolent ghost coming for us because we kidnapped her ghost son.” Holtz stares at Quentin and wonders if he’s truly worth the effort of capturing him. Abby offers no further response, so Holtz kicks her way across the lab to her desk and sets about tinkering with the cryogen reservoir on Patty’s pack, which had graciously been loaned to Jenn for the afternoon.

Unfortunately, Jenn wasn’t as graceful with her use as Patty, so the pack had gotten a bit beaten up. Holtz hates when her creations get damaged, but she has to admit that she loves fixing them afterwards. She removes the outer plating and gets lost in the circuits.

0-0-0

Erin flops down on the edge of Holtz’s desk, drawing Holtz’s attention immediately. “That meeting was awful. Boring and awful.”

“Sounds fantastic,” Holtz teases. “I’m so jealous you went and not me.”

“If you weren’t a ghost, I’d kill you for that joke.”

“Good thing I am dead, then. I know you’d totally follow through.” Holtz glances toward Quentin and murmurs, “There’s something I have to tell you.”

Erin follows her gaze. “What’s that?”

“That’s Quentin Smithe. We caught him.”

“Seriously? Without talking to me? Am I even a part of this team anymore?”

Holtz holds her hand and stares her down. “Erin.”

“What?”

“I don’t mean to sound patronizing, but I think you’re a little wound up from that meeting.”

Deflating, Erin nods. “Maybe. I just felt so useless, like nothing I said mattered to them. And then I come here, and you guys are just doing important things without me.”

“I should have told you,” Holtz admits quietly. “But it was sorta sudden.”

“Weren’t you against capturing him like this in the first place?”

“I didn’t think my personal feelings mattered much at the moment. We have to stop Mother Smithe before she unleashes more ghosts with the power to maim people.”

Erin looks again at Quentin. “Still, this feels weird, doesn’t it?”

“It does.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No.”

Holtz fills her in on the arduous afternoon spent trying to make contact, and Erin pops to her feet soon after. She rummages in her desk for a whiteboard marker, heads to Quentin’s display, and quickly scribbles out an alphabet. Once that’s done, she raps on the glass.

“Can you understand me?”

Quentin stares at her for several long seconds and then lifts a transparent finger. Slowly but surely, he points to the letters Y-E-S.

0-0-0

The theoretical ramifications of this communication are almost overwhelming. Erin spends the rest of the evening jotting down ideas, scratching out the ones that seem a bit too out there, and bouncing in her seat. She wonders if the ghosts on the first floor are capable of communicating as well; she bets Patty would have a field day talking to each one about its time period and life.

Then again, the possibility once more brings up Holtz’s concern--that with these display units, they’ve found a way to unfairly restrict the movements of thinking beings. As much as she’s excited by the possibility of learning more about history, about what actually happened at times other than this one, she hopes most ghosts are closer to echoes than Holtzes.

“Chinese food is here.” Holtz touches her shoulder. “Coming?”

“Holtz, do you think all ghosts are capable of communication?”

Holtz fidgets, dragging her yellow goggles down over her eyes and tossing her hair this way and that. “I don’t know. To be honest, I think more ghosts can than we might expect. I mean, with varying levels of success. Not every ghost is going to be like me. I mean, look at Quentin, he’s a sad sap version of himself, stuck ruminating on past mistakes. I don’t think there’s much of him left.”

“What do you mean?”

“So, based on yours and Abby’s book, echoes are stuck reliving the last few moments of their lives--or some other important moment, whatever. Quentin’s not doing that, but he’s definitely stuck in a loop. He’s not processing new information like I am. He’s just circling around the same depressing thought.”

“Does that make it acceptable to keep him caged like he is? Would it be kinder to lock him in a containment unit?”

“I honestly don’t have an answer for you, babe. I’ve never been in either position. I don’t know which is better.” Holtz offers her a hand. “But we can talk about this over crab rangoons.”

0-0-0

Later that evening, Erin brushes her teeth and stares at her reflection. She likes who she’s becoming, she decides. Years ago, she hated everything about who she really was--because society seemed to hate that person, too. She buried it all in the hopes that she could just fit in. Now, however, she can appreciate her oddity. She likes her inability to fit in.

If it weren’t for all the ghosts and all the pain, she wouldn’t have the same relationship she does with Holtzmann, and she wouldn’t forego that for anything. That’s partially why she’s hesitant to continue their ghost museum without doing further research. Ghosts don’t have a quality of life, she assures herself as she spits into the sink, but she can’t be sure they don’t suffer. She washes her mouth out, dries her mouth, and walks slowly to the bedroom, where Holtz is already curled up. These are problems for the next morning, she decides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> School starts up tomorrow (both teaching and being a student), so updates may slow down. I'd like to keep posting at least one a day, but I also don't know how heavy the load is going to be. Thank you for your patience!


	67. Chapter 67

Holtz spends a few hours sitting in front of Quentin. They haven’t spoken to each other--Holtz doesn’t know what to say--but she feels some connection to the non-corporeal man sighing and drifting around his small boxed-in area. She fidgets with her belt before removing it and joining Quentin as a body-less spirit. Now, his gaze focuses on her, and his eyes widen.

“You’re real.”

She understands what he means, even though neither of them are quite real by physical definitions. While she wore the belt, he looked pale and ghastly. Now, he’s vibrant and flesh-toned. She looks down at her own hands and realizes for the first time that she’s also flesh-toned. After a decade of being a ghost, she’s surprised that she never thought about her perception of herself as a spirit versus what living beings must see.

“Sorta,” she replies, placing her hand on the glass. He mimics the gesture. “Do you know where you are?”

“Ghostbusters headquarters,” he answers quietly and immediately. “I’m dead, aren’t I?”

“Yes.”

“I never could do anything right--not even pass on.”

She shrugs. “Nothing you can do about it now.”

“I can’t pass on?”

“Not while you’re in that box. At least I don’t think so. Maybe.” She hesitates and asks, “Does it hurt? Being in there?”

“No.”

“Can you feel time passing?”

“No.”

“Are you happy?”

This draws no answer, at least not at first. He swirls to the bottom of the container and mutters, “I can’t do anything right.”

She wonders if assuring him that he did do something right might help ease his suffering. She clears her throat. “Buddy, you did it good. The whole being alive thing. From what I hear, you were great at that.”

“Until I wasn’t,” he moans.

“You could definitely be great at being a ghost, if you’d tell us more about your mom.”

His attention slides back to her. “Dad was awful, and she allowed it. Never to me. Never. Only to her.”

She recalls the information contained in his files and cocks her head. “Awful how?”

“Awful,” he repeats without clarification. “She protected me, even if I didn’t deserve it.”

“Yeah?”

“I couldn’t protect her--not good enough for that--but I made him pay.”

“Did you now?” There were no suspicious circumstances surrounding Father Smithe’s death, or so she remembers. “Well, if you killed him, you were an exceptionally skilled killer. Nobody figured it out.”

“Poor mother…”

Talking to him is like slamming her fist into a brick wall and expecting the wall to shatter. She returns to her belt and rematerializes, deciding not to share her newfound skill with the others until she understood more of the implications. If she can convince Erin to let her stay late that evening, she’ll experiment with the ghosts downstairs. The idea that she can dip into their personal histories is thrilling--although she’s afraid that most of them will share Quentin’s preference for spiraling around the same subject.

She wonders why she didn’t become a ghost like that. She’s not inherently different than Quentin, after all. They both died, and they both stayed in the physical realm--but she functions as though she hasn’t died, while he can’t seem to grow past his purported limitations. If she doesn’t know why she’s like this, then there’s a chance she’ll lose it. She’ll lose Erin.

0-0-0

She pins Erin to the bed, desperate to confirm that everything is fine. Erin kisses her, and she grounds herself in the moment. Cupping Erin’s cheeks, she deepens the kiss, and Erin clings to her hips. They’ve shed their clothing, except for Holtz’s belt, and she can’t get enough of the feeling of Erin’s skin on hers. She insisted the lights remain on, simply so that she can look at Erin whenever she wants.

“Is everything okay?” Erin murmurs, gaze locked on Holtz’s. “You seem a little sad.”

“I am, a little,” Holtz replies, trailing her fingers down Erin’s chest.

“Care to share with the class?”

“I’m just worried that I’m not going to be able to maintain.”

“Maintain what?”

Holtz gestures down her body. “Me.”

“Why?”

“With all these ghosts on display, I can’t help it. I’m worried. What makes me any different? Why am I like this? What if that goes away?”

“I wish I had answers,” Erin says. “But I don’t. Would you like me to start working on some theories?”

“You should finish your articles first.”

“I don’t mind pausing them. You’re more important than a purely academic pursuit.”

“It’s not purely academic if your results can give us some guidance on the mayor and what’s going on.”

“I don’t care. This city can go to heck, as long as I have you.” Erin drags her down for another kiss.

She returns the affection with equal fervor and slips her hand between Erin’s legs. Dipping her fingers in, she draws out a long, heady moan from her partner, who bites her lip and tugs back. Holtz grins and pumps faster until Erin can’t control herself and helplessly rolls her hips down for maximum contact and speed. The encounter is brief and intense, and Holtz looks her straight in the eye the entire time.

“Will you touch me?”

Erin blinks at her. “Are you sure?”

“No penetration. But I need to feel you. Please.”

Erin rolls them over and straddles Holtz’s midsection. “You tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“I will.”

“Okay. May I touch your breasts? Or just your clit?”

“Both is fine.”

Erin nods and slides down Holtz’s body. She presses her lips to Holtz’s nipple and gingerly sucks the hardening nub into her mouth. Despite her worries, Holtz arches up into her touch, and she feels a bit more confident. She places her fingers against Holtz’s clit and massages up and down. Holtz’s face screws up, and she makes a noise somewhat akin to a kitten’s mew. Deciding that she’s not overstepping any boundaries thus far, Erin moves a little faster.

A few minutes later, Holtz stiffens and starts to cry. Erin immediately stops and gathers Holtz into her arms. She rocks Holtz until the sniffling subsides, and they fall asleep cuddled up together.


	68. Chapter 68

The span of peace and quiet breaks on a boring Tuesday afternoon.

A frantic call comes in at two o’clock, but Kevin hangs up because he doesn’t like it when people holler at him. Loud noises don’t jive with his desired chill. The phone rings again approximately four seconds after he hangs up, and this time, Abby picks up. She jots down the details on one of Kevin’s unused message pads and tells Erin it’s time to shut the museum down for the day. Knowing she’ll regret it later, Erin instructs Kevin to give people a refund or a free pass for the next time they’re open.

Holtz and Patty load the car with the ease of many months of practice and camaraderie, joking and laughing as if this were a regular bust. Not even Abby’s scolding diminishes their spirits, which irritates Abby who knows exactly how panicked that phone call was. She’s gotten fairly good at assessing threat level based on reaction decibel, and she knows that this call isn’t like the last few they’ve gone on. The last three were low level specters that moved through walls, spooked a couple of kids, and went down easily.

According to this call, there were broken windows, two serious injuries, and a furious rampage underway. This news sets Abby ill at ease, as the last time they faced something as vicious as this, there was some of Holtz’s tech involved. Erin joins her and is thankfully somber. She whispers that she’s not sure Holtz is up for capturing more ghosts at this point, but Abby argues that they’ll need all four of them for this call.

They arrive at an apartment building, where most inhabitants are huddled across the street. Glass litters the sidewalk, and there are pools of drying blood. Holtz and Patty are no longer laughing. As they approach the building, fully suited up and ready to go, another window blows out, and a scream pierces the midday warmth.

“I thought the building was evac’d,” Holtz mutters to Erin, who shrugs.

“Apparently not completely.”

“There’s a lotta floors. How are we going to cover all this space?”

“We can’t,” Abby says grimly. “We could split up--”

“I’m not comfortable with that,” Erin interrupts. “This ghost isn’t nice. We could be in danger, too.”

Holtz sets her pack and blaster aside, grinning. “We know it’s somewhere up above, right? Gimme two minutes, and I’ll find the problem area.”

“Holtz,” Erin says, but whatever she’s going to say to stop Holtz from acting is lost--Holtz removes her belt and disappears.

Patty shakes her head. “For a genius, that girl’s gotta stop and think more. What if she gets into trouble?”

“She’ll deal with it.” Erin didn’t want Holtz to go, but she’s got to stay strong and positive. Holtz can handle this because Holtz is smart, savvy, and quick. This is going to save them a good deal of time if Holtz can correctly identify the ghost’s location.

Abby stares up at the ceiling, silent while they wait. Patty and Erin talk quietly, discussing whether Holtz is bold or just impulsive, and minutes drag by until Holtz suddenly pops back into existence. She dons her pack again and bows.

“My ladies, the ghostly terrorist is on the eleventh floor, west end. There is a woman trying to herd her cat into a carrier. I assume that’s why she stayed, and I respect that awful decision.”

“Like Erin saying you going off like that wasn’t that bad.” Patty stares at Holtz, who merely beams back and winks.

“Exactly. I used to have a cat, and he was my son. I wouldn’t have left him behind.”

“You had a cat?” Erin shakes her head, refocuses, and heads for the stairs. “We’ll talk about that later.”

Holtz jogs after her. “His name was Nino.”

0-0-0

Erin pants when she reaches the eleventh floor, hating that Holtz doesn’t tire the same way she does. Patty and Abby are reasonably winded, just like she is, but Holtz is dancing from foot to foot impatiently while they catch their breath.

“C’mon. We’re so close. That cat needs us.”

“And the woman?” Erin pants.

“Oh. Right. And the woman.” Holtz ushers them down the hallway. “Just think, once the ghost is gone, we can safely use the elevator to get back down.”

“Down is easier than up.”

“This was my work out for the year,” Patty complains. “If that ghost ain’t here anymore, I might just quit.”

Holtz points out the door. “Through there.”

Patty hollers and charges, using her status as The Tall One to break the barrier down. They flood the apartment and find the woman sobbing with her cat in her arms. The cat is spitting, shrieking, and scrambling to get away, and its claws have slashed the woman’s bare skin to ribbons.

“Ma’am?” Erin takes a hesitant step forward. “Where did it go? The ghost?”

The woman looks up slowly, and her movements are jerking and unsteady. “Go away.”

Something feels wrong. Erin swallows past the tension in her throat, determined to help no matter what. “Ma’am, we’re here to take care of the ghost.”

The woman screeches, and ectoplasm flings forward, coating Erin from head to foot in goo. Erin stands perfectly still and drips. Holtz stutters out half a laugh but immediately sucks in her nervousness. 

“I think that woman might be possessed,” she hazards.

“You think?” Erin sputters.

“Guys,” Patty shouts, and when Erin’s attention returns to where the woman should be, the woman is gone. Adrenaline shoots through her body.

“Okay. She can’t have gone far.” Abby looks around the small apartment, which has a hallway, several doors, and no other ways out. “We’re in the doorway, and she didn’t pass us by. She’s in here somewhere. Erin, you mind guarding the exit here?”

Erin badly wants a shower, but she nods. “I can do that.”

“Let’s split up.”

“That works great for Mystery Incorporated,” Holtz jokes. She salutes anyway and heads off at a quick clip.

Patty groans, complains under her breath, but sets off as well. Abby offers Erin a handkerchief from her pocket. “Holler if you need us.”

Erin wipes the ectoplasm from her cheeks, shuddering all the while. “I will. You be careful. This is weird--like straight out of one of Holtz’s horror movies.”

“I will.”


	69. Chapter 69

Holtz bursts into the bedroom and scans the space, which is void of all life--and death, she supposes--at first blush. She enters more fully, ducks down, and checks under the bed. She finds the cat there, its claws dug into the hardwood floor and its eyes wide and frightened. She feels bad for the feline, as it’s probably scared out of its mind.

“Hey, buddy,” she murmurs. She doesn’t reach out to it, but she blinks slowly while maintaining eye contact. Its tail whips madly behind it. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’m sorry this is happening to you. I promise I’ll come back for you.”

Leaving the cat in its safe haven, Holtz stands once more and crosses to the closet. She pulls the door open and peers inside at the rows of neatly hung clothing. Pushing them aside, she makes sure nothing and nobody is hiding inside before deeming the room clear. Although she wants to comfort the cat some more, she forces herself back into the hallway because the overall situation is more dire than the cat’s emotional well being--at least for now.

She catches Patty exiting the bathroom, and they shake their heads at each other. Together, they head to the kitchen at the end of the hallway. As they round the corner, a butcher knife slings through the air and strikes the wall beside Holtz’s head. She stares at the glimmering blade that still shudders from the impact.

“So, funny hypothetical question… Can I die again?”

Patty shrugs. “But I’d really prefer not to die for the first time.”

Holtz nods, knowing that her going in first is probably the smartest strategy. Still, she calls for Abby to provide back up before she girds her loins and steps into the kitchen. A fork lodges itself in her shoulder, and she gasps. The sensation is somewhat like pain, or what she remembers pain to feel like. It definitely doesn’t feel right, she decides, staring down at the cutlery. With trembling fingers, she tugs the fork free and tosses it aside.

“Could we maybe stop with the throwing?”

“Get out!” The woman screeches, her voice sounding both human and Other.

Holtz smiles agreeably. “I’d really like to, y’know? It’s just that we can’t leave you in possession of that body.”

“Out.”

“Is that maybe your name?” Holtz steps closer and presses a hand to her chest. “Me, Holtzmann. You, Out?”

This time it’s a spoon that cleaves her skin. Holtz is prepared for it, but the discomfort is just as jarring and unpleasant. She pulls the spoon out and lunges forward, finally certain that no amount of talking is going to solve this problem. Careening into her target, she drags the woman to the ground, where they roll around. Patty and Abby thunder in with their blasters pointed.

“Slap her,” Patty calls. “That’s how I got Abby de-possessed.”

“I’m like a spiritual repo-man,” Holtz states as she draws her hand back and releases the most powerful slap she can muster. The woman’s mouth bursts open, and sprattle of blood hits the ground. “I’m so sorry!”

“Again.”

Holtz glances at Abby, who tightens her hands into fists but doesn’t counter Patty’s order. Hating herself just a little bit, Holtz delivers another blow. The woman squirms and spits blood at her, which drips down her cheek. She despises every moment of this, and when Patty murmurs to do it again, she shakes her head.

“We need a plan B. I can’t beat this woman to death. That might let the ghost take her body permanently.”

“Could you maybe ghost her out?” Abby stares down at the struggling woman with a mixture of frustration and empathy. “Like, possess the body, too, push the bad spirit out for us to capture and then release the woman?”

“I’ve never tried possessing anyone. Didn’t really think that was a good thing to do.”

“Could you try?”

“I can’t keep her contained and abandon my physical form.”

“Lemme pin her down,” Patty offers. “I’m stronger.”

Erin’s voice carries down the hallway faintly: “You guys okay?”

“Fine,” Holtz hollers back. “Just--taking care of some business.”

As she shifts back and Patty slides down, the woman’s shirt gets roughed up. Holtz pauses before she removes her belt and asks Patty to lift the woman’s shirt just a little bit higher. There, on the woman’s stomach, is one of the chips. She reaches down and tries to pluck it away, but it seems somehow glued to the woman’s body.

“We need to get that off her.”

“How?”

Holtz is silent as she tries to figure out a nonviolent solution. Coming up empty, she decides to resort back to their initial idea. “Okay, hold my belt. I’ll see what I can do.”

0-0-0

Erin stands in the doorway and worries. She’s pretty good at worrying, she knows. Her therapist used to tell her that she was too good--there was good to be gained from a bit of worrying, but she took her concern to an unhealthy level. For a few years, she’d relied on medication to help her keep everything under control, but after she left high school, her anxiety tempered, and she left the medication with all her woes in high school. Now, however, she wishes she had a dose.

She wants to go see what’s happening, but she’d never forgive herself if she abandoned her post and the ghost left while they were all distracted. She hears a few yells, spots Patty backing out of the room, and then detects Holtzmann’s haggard cry. That’s the last straw. She sprints down the hallway, splattering goo with every step, and skids into the kitchen.

“Holtzmann,” she starts, but words escape her as she spots Holtz holding the woman to her chest and dry heaving. Abby grabs her arm.

“We need to get her out of here.”

“What happened?”

“We’ll fill you in later,” Abby promises. “Just get her downstairs to the car. Patty and I will clean up.”

She exchanges a tense look with Abby before taking Holtz by the wrist. At first, Holtz refuses to relinquish her grip. Then, on sighting Erin, she transfers her dry-eyed hysteria. Erin accepts the hug for a few moments before guiding Holtz to the elevator at the end of the hallway. Holtz refuses to answer any questions, so Erin eventually stops asking. They return to the Ecto-1 and wait for a very tense twenty minutes until Abby and Patty reappear.

“Jenn is on her way to talk to the press,” Abby says grimly. “She wants us to get out of here, and we’re not to say anything to anybody. Are we clear?”

“I don’t even know what’s going on,” Erin grouses. “But sure. You have my word. Holtz?”

Holtz clings to her and nods.


	70. Chapter 70

“Will someone please tell me what happened?”

They sit gravely around the table at the firehouse, and at first, nobody is willing to say much of anything. Holtz fixates on her hands, while Abby watches the ceiling. Not even Patty makes eye contact, and Erin feels like she’s once again the odd man out. She’s getting a little tired of being the fourth wheel every time, and she lets her anxiety roll off of her in waves of tension.

Finally, Patty sighs and says, “The chip.”

“The chip,” Erin repeats.

“Yeah. The ghost had a chip in it, before it possessed that woman.”

“So?”

“So, we found it on her body, but we couldn’t get it off. It was attached to the ghost inside her, but since it was a physical item, it couldn’t go in.” Patty glances at Holtz, who nods. “At least, that’s the theory. We tried to get the spirit to leave the host, but nothing was working.”

There’s another minute or so of silence, and Erin looks at Holtz expectantly. Holtz, however, refuses to meet anyone’s gaze. Instead, she picks at her fingernails. Erin spots a few of the wounds caused by the flying cutlery and tenses.

“Did you get hurt?”

“A little,” Holtz mutters. “No big deal.”

“No big deal? Holtzmann, we don’t know anything about your condition--”

“It’s not a condition,” Holtz interrupts, standing up and stalking to the stairs. “I’m dead, and so is that woman.”

They watch her storm away, and Erin tries to follow. Patty stops her and makes her sit again. “Don’t. Give her some space, alright?”

“She needs me.”

“Yeah, but she also needs to think.”

“Just tell me what happened.”

Abby takes over for Patty and explains, “Holtz went ghost and entered the woman as well.”

“To oust the spirit?”

“Exactly. We thought she might be able to chase the ghost out and then relinquish control back to the host. From the outside, it looked like the woman was having a seizure--you’d have to ask Holtz about what was going on inside. Holtz successfully got the spirit to leave, but the woman didn’t make it.”

“Because of Holtz?”

“Because of the cat.” Abby wrinkles her nose uncomfortably. “You saw all the damage before. It clawed her arms open. She--well, she bled out. While Holtz was still inside.”

Erin considers this and realizes that Holtz’s behavior suddenly makes much more sense to her. She grimaces and rubs the back of her neck. “I’m assuming that couldn’t have felt very good.”

“I guess not,” Patty replies. “Holtz popped back out and started hollering--and then you came in.”

0-0-0

Holtz leans against the cement barrier at the edge of the roof and stares out at the city. She hears Erin step up behind her but doesn’t respond until Erin’s hand is on her lower back. Turning slightly, she invites Erin to stand beside her.

“I guess they told you what happened?”

“What they understood, yes.” Erin hesitates. “But I feel like there’s something else going on here. It can’t just be that the woman died.”

Holtz rests her elbows on the cement and traps her temples between her fingers. “It wasn’t just her that died. I was in there. I felt it, too. It was just like before, but somehow so much worse. It hurt, Erin. It hurt so bad.”

“Oh my gosh.” Erin mirrors Holtz’s pose. She wants to hug the other woman, but she also doesn’t want to interrupt Holtz’s thought process. Hugs will happen at the end of the conversation, she decides, as she’s sure they’ll both need one.

“It was like being back in that burning building all over again.” Holtz scrubs her face, hating the way her voice trembles. It’s been ten years since the accident, but now, everything feels fresh again. She can almost smell the smoke and taste the ash. “I can’t escape, Erin. I’m stuck in this moment, and it’s all I have.”

“You have me.”

“I know, but it’s not what I mean. In here--” Holtz slaps her forehead with her palm. “--it’s like a free fall that I can’t control. I mean, we upgraded my belt to the point that I can almost everything--I can cry again, y’know--and maybe that wasn’t right. Maybe we shouldn’t have because maybe then it wouldn’t feel like I’m dying.”

“We could downgrade--”

“No. Never. This hurts, almost more than I can bear, but I’d rather move on than lose the ability to feel your skin on mine.” Holtz swallows hard and nods. “I’ll get through this, I think. I just…”

“I’m here for you,” Erin murmurs, finally drawing Holtz into a hug. Holtz rests her head on Erin’s shoulder, grateful for the support.

0-0-0

At home, they sit in front of the television and wait for the nightly news. Although Erin doesn’t think Holtz needs to watch the report, Holtz is adamant. She wants to know about the woman who died. She’s also hoping there’s news about the cat, for whom she promised to come back. She hasn’t run the idea past Erin yet, but she thinks the apartment could use a furry friend.

“Do you want me to watch it first? And then I could prepare you--”

“I’m okay.” Holtz sits a little straighter. “I have to know.”

“We could just ask Jenn--”

“We could,” Holtz allows.

“But you want to watch this.”

“Yeah.”

“For closure.”

“Yeah.”

Erin sighs and turns the volume up as the commercials end and the news returns. An anchor describes the situation that developed earlier that afternoon before transferring over to an on-the-scene reporter, who stands outside the apartment building.

“A gas leak on the eleventh floor resulted in the mass evacuation of the residents in this quiet downtown apartment complex. Unfortunately, Elise Mantigoli was asleep at the time of the problem and failed to get out. Local authorities are investigating, but we’ve been told the leak has been resolved. We’ll provide more details as they’re released.”

“Gas leak, huh?”

Erin shrugs. “You know the mayor’s office.”

“Not very creative, are they?” Holtz wrinkles her nose.

“I don’t think they have to be.” Erin places her hand on Holtz’s knee. “Are you okay?”

“What if we got there a few minutes faster? If Patty and I weren’t joking around and took it seriously?”

“I don’t know. But you can’t change what already happened.”

“No, you’re right.” Holtz lets her head flop back against the wall. “It just isn’t so great. All this time, and I still can’t stop making mistakes.”

“I think that’s actually a good thing,” Erin jokes gently. “That’s definitely a tally mark in the column of Things That Make Holtz Human.”


	71. Chapter 71

“So, guess who’s back, back again.” Holtz spins in her chair and faces her friends, who look at her blankly. “Mother Smithe’s back--tell a friend.”

“Seriously?”

Holtz nods and holds up the chip taken from the ghost possessing Elise Mantigoli. “This tech matches what we found before. She’s been so quiet for so long, lulling us into a false sense of security, but she was just biding her time.”

“Think she’s planning something?” Abby takes the chip for closer examination. “Can you tell if this is the exact same tech, or if she’s upgraded in some way?”

“I haven’t gotten that far in the analysis, but I’ll tell you one thing--the previous ghosts weren’t in any shape to take control of someone’s body. Whatever she’s done, it’s a lot worse than before.”

Erin grimaces. As if their lives weren’t complicated enough. “And Quentin hasn’t said anything useful since we caught him a month ago.”

A tremor of guilt shudders through Holtz, who hasn’t yet explained that she can talk to some ghosts. She is afraid of what that will mean, both in terms of Erin’s ethical worries and her own position on the team. If she acknowledges that there are more ghosts capable of response, then the idea that she’s not the only sentient ghost becomes closer to fact than hypothesis. She isn’t sure she can keep capturing spirits with the knowledge that they could be processing the world still. Then again, Quentin’s limited capabilities don’t exactly speak to full cognition.

She wrestles with her concerns as the team discusses what they ought to do next. Since Quentin is no longer at the house, they have no guarantee that Mary Smithe will return to the location. Patty has the idea fairly quickly, and Holtz realizes that everyone is staring at her.

“What?”

“I said, could you make something that’ll hone in on the properties of your old belt? That thing’s gotta be transmitting some information, right?”

“The problem is that I’d be some massive interference. We wouldn’t be able to use it while I was corporeal.”

Abby hesitates, and Holtz knows what’s coming. “Could you still make something, and then not wear the belt while we look?”

Holtz knows that this is only logical, but being told to stop existing in the physical plane for convenience still hurts. It’s probably just a result of dying again, she assures herself. Thinking the word ‘dying’ sends a shiver down her spine, and she’s back in that moment for several, awful seconds. Erin’s hand on her hip is the only thing tying her to the conversation.

“Yeah,” she manages as a reply. “We could do that.”

Erin pulls her aside after and gazes into her eyes. “It happened again?”

“It’s not a big deal--”

“I think it is. You’re clearly affected by this.”

“It’ll pass,” Holtz replies obstinately. She tugs out of Erin’s hands. “And as I’m the only one here who’s died twice, I think I’m more of an expert on posthumous emotional responses than anyone else.”

Erin lifts her hands defensively. “I know that. I just want to help.”

“There’s no help to give.” Holtz deflates when she sees the vulnerability in Erin’s face. “I really do appreciate your support, but this is something I have to manage on my own. There’s no ghost therapist and no ghost antidepressants.”

“It seems like you’re suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. Maybe you’re feeling it differently than someone alive, but I still think you might benefit from talking to someone who specializes in the area.”

“They’d lock me up for being crazy.”

“You don’t have to mention that you died. Just say that you were in a fire when you were younger, and it’s coming back to haunt you.”

The pun draws a smile to Holtz’s lips unbidden. “Very funny.”

“I’m worried, Holtz.”

“I know. And I wish you weren’t, but I know you can’t help it.” Holtz rubs the back of her neck and stares up at the ceiling. “If it’ll make you happy, I’ll try it, okay?”

“Don’t do this for me. Do it for yourself.”

“For now, it’s gotta be for you. But maybe something good’ll still come out of it.”

0-0-0

Holtz tinkers on her invention, while Erin puts the final touches on her theoretical article. The firehouse is relatively quiet, as Kevin is busy with his urban rodeo team, Patty is at the library, and Abby took a day to sort through personal matters. Erin reads through the document four times before leaning back and glancing at Holtz.

“Will you read this before I send it out?”

“I’m sure it’s great,” Holtz replies absently.

“Still, your opinion means a lot to me.”

“When do you need it by?”

“A few days would be great.”

Holtz sets her tools down and nods. “Yeah. How about tonight?”

“Don’t you have an appointment?”

“Oh. Right.”

Erin doesn’t like the sound of Holtz’s response. She closes her laptop and crosses the room. “Holtz, if you really don’t want to go to talk to this doctor, you don’t have to.”

“I don’t want to,” Holtz acknowledges, “but I am so tired of feeling like this.”

Kissing the crown of Holtz’s head, Erin lets the matter go. “How far are you on the locator?”

“It’d be a whole lot easier if I still had access to the original belt. I’m basing it off of the readings I get from this baby,” Holtz pats the newest version of the belt, “but it’s a lot stronger and a little different since we started harnessing the spiritual plane for energy.”

“Do you still think you can get it working?”

“Of course.” Holtz holds her head high and proud.

“I forgot I was talking to the wunderkind of ghost technology.”

Holtz snorts. “I am, without a doubt, the most prestigious, best, and most awesome scientist in my field.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t gotten offers for a lecturing tour.”

“I have, actually.”

Erin’s jaw drops open. “You have not.”

“No, I haven’t. But the look on your face is priceless.” Holtz bends back toward her work, glad that sometimes things can feel normal, even with the looming weight pressing down on her. She’ll see this doctor, she decides, and she’ll make an honest effort to feel better. Like Erin insists, this is for her own good.


	72. Chapter 72

Erin waits at home with the television on as a distraction; she doesn’t watch anything, however. Instead, she stares blankly at the space above the set and hopes that Holtz is doing fine. Together, they’d found a doctor who specializes in PTSD and who was willing to charge less due to Holtzmann’s lack of insurance. The woman seemed nice on the phone, but Erin is beginning to worry. She fidgets with her fingers and then forces herself to watch the inane sitcom playing before her.

At half past the hour, the front door opens, and Erin jumps to her feet. She hurries to Holtz’s side, biting back her onslaught of questions even though she’s dying to pry into every detail of the session. Holtz grins at her, but the expression seems dishonest.

“It wasn’t that intense,” she says flippantly. “First sessions are a lot of background information.”

“I remember. Will you see her again?”

“She thinks I should come in two times a week, but that seems unnecessary, doesn’t it?”

Erin wants to argue, but she doesn’t know what Holtz is experiencing. She can merely shrug and state, “I support whatever you choose to do, but if the therapist thinks it’ll help, is there a harm in trying?”

“It’s going to be expensive, even with the discount.”

“I have some money set aside, not to mention a nice paycheck from the mayor’s office. We’ll make this work.”

“I don’t want to mooch off you, Erin.”

“You’re not--”

“I am. How else would you define someone who doesn’t pay for anything?”

Erin considers the question thoughtfully and answers, “An honored guest.”

Holtz sputters with laughter, her mood brightening. “Oh, I see. And you are the generous host?”

“But of course.”

Sobering, Holtz sighs. “I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You don’t have to. The thing is, money is great when it’s doing something necessary. I’d rather spend it on your mental health than let it sit and do nothing in a bank account. It’s like all those old people who die as billionaires--wouldn’t they have been better off spending all that money and being happy?”

“Something tells me they weren’t all that unhappy.”

“Maybe not. But still.” Erin sets her hand on Holtz’s arm. “You are more important to me than any amount of money.”

“Let’s compromise, then. I’ll go once a week for now, and we’ll see how I’m doing after a few months.”

Erin kisses her cheek. “That sounds fine.”

0-0-0

“Jillian, come in.”

Holtz skulks inside and sits on one of the three couches available. Dr. Lauck sits across from her, a pad of paper on her armrest and a pen in one hand. The decor is supposed to be inviting, Holtz thinks as she gazes around, but it just feels forced to her. She folds her arms over her chest and waits for the real pain to begin. The faster they do this, the better.

“How have you been doing?”

“Pretty fine,” Holtz replies, and then, deciding to be honest, she adds, “Had a few rough patches, but that’s nothing new.”

“Anything you’d like to talk about?”

She’s here to get help, she reminds herself. Still, she hates talking about this sort of thing because she hates feeling weak in front of anyone who isn’t Erin. “I guess that would be okay. Someone made a reference to my recent near-death experience, and it set off all the memories of my previous one.”

“In what way?”

“I could basically feel the fire burning.” Holtz closes her eyes and struggles to stay calm. “It was like being in that moment all over again.”

“I’d like you to open your eyes, Jillian.” Dr. Lauck waits until Holtz is staring at her. “Where are we right now?”

“Your office.”

“Very good. And what are five things you can see right now?”

Holtz moves through the exercise with her, first running through visual stimuli, then aural, and finally tactile. Dr. Lauck tells her to practice this any time she feels out of control or like she’s about to die again.

“It’ll help you ground yourself in where you currently are, rather than where you were.”

Although she does feel calmer than before, Holtz isn’t too sure this is going to fix much of anything. Still, Erin is so hopeful that these sessions will cure her, she’s willing to try. “I’ll do my best.”

0-0-0

Erin jumps at the sound of something slamming to the ground behind her. She makes eye contact with Abby, who shakes her head, and they both crowd around Holtz’s desk. The blonde engineer cradles her head in her hands, and a pile of scrap rests at her feet.

“You doing okay, Holtzmann?”

Holtz peers at Abby. “Oh, yeah. Totally fine.”

“What’s all this about?”

“Oh, that’s my pile of junk.”

“Any reason your pile of junk looks a lot like a prototype version of a locator device?”

“They are very similar,” Holtz agrees. “Especially since neither work.”

“I thought you said you were close?”

“Close is relative…”

“Did you need any help?” Erin bends down and picks up several broken pieces, which she deposits on the table. “We’d be glad to lend a hand.”

“I think I just need some air.”

Holtz leaves abruptly, and Erin stares down at the floor in her wake. Abby helps her finish retrieving pieces and then guides her away from Holtz’s mess.

“She’s going to be okay,” Erin murmurs.

“I know she will be. I’m more concerned if you will.”

“Oh, I’m fine.”

Abby fixes her with a dead-eye stare. “Erin.”

“Okay, so I’m a little freaked out about how she’s behaving lately.” Erin lifts a finger. “And no, before you go there, she isn’t malevolent. I just think she’s got a lot to process.”

“I wasn’t going to suggest that she was.” Abby’s hand rests on her lower back, and she calms. “You’ve spent a lot of time with her, and I trust you. But I just get the feeling that you hadn’t seen all of her until now. None of us had.”

“What do you mean?”

“So far, she’s been really cheerful and almost too energetic. That’s not all everyone is.”

“I’ve also seen her quieter sides.”

“Have you seen her angry?”

“Not a whole lot,” Erin admits. “We try to talk things through.”

“I’m betting she’s got a lot of fear and anger built up over the decade since her death, and that definitely falls into the category of the stuff she needs to process. And I’m glad you’re helping her do that, but I want you to take care of yourself.”

Erin nods and lets Abby hug her tightly. She’s glad they’re back in each other’s lives now, as she missed her best friend--and the support that comes with Abby’s unwavering friendship.


	73. Chapter 73

Holtz stays on the roof for half an hour. She knows that someone joins her after twenty minutes, but she doesn’t break her focus on the skyline. She’s behaving really poorly--getting angry with people who love her and want to help her--but she can’t help it. And nothing that damn therapist told her is doing any good. She wipes at her cheeks, frustrated that she’s able to cry again.

“Ready to talk?”

Turning about, Holtz offers Patty a cocksure smile. “About what?”

“I mean, whatever you want. But clearly there’s a reason you’re up here, angsting into the night.”

“I’m not angsting.” Holtz huffs and folds her arms over her chest. “I am contemplating my existence.”

“The two can overlap. Hell, they often do.” Patty crosses and leans beside her. “I heard a little bit of what happened downstairs.”

“Can we not talk about that?”

“Not your proudest moment?”

Holtz snorts and shakes her head. She intertwines her fingers, ashamed of how she acted previously. “You could say that.”

“Y’know, Erin isn’t gonna tell you to stop. She’s real concerned with your feelings.”

“I know. That’s what makes me feel so awful. I snap at her, and she just takes it.”

“Then maybe you should stop snapping at her.”

“You think I want to?” Holtz scrubs her hands across her face and then lets them drop to her side. Part of her fears that she does want to hurt Erin--that she might be turning into the malevolent spirit everyone thinks she’ll become. Maybe she does deserve to end up in one of those little containers, where she can be a ghost who can’t tell the passage of time. She’ll stew in her own sadness, but she won’t know it.

“I don’t know, baby.” Patty wraps an arm around her shoulder. “But emotions are tough. You can’t just let everything fester until Erin says the wrong thing.”

“You’re right.”

“I know.”

Holtz leans against Patty’s shoulder. “I’m seeing a therapist.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“I just don’t think it’s doing me any good. It’s not fixing me.”

Patty sighs and tightens her grip. “Therapy isn’t to fix you, Holtz. It’s to help you cope.”

“So, I’m broken forever?”

“There’s your problem. You think you’re broke.”

“Aren’t I?”

Shaking her head, Patty shifts to better look into Holtz’s face. Holtz stares up at her, pain and confusion in her gaze. “You might be a little cracked, but we all are. We’re not mirrors, Holtz. We’re people, and as such, we get stronger and better if we get a little damaged and still manage to keep on trucking.”

“I’m not a person.”

“Shut the hell up.”

Holtz offers a small smile, sad but genuine. “I mean, I used to be. But I really don’t count anymore.”

“Do you feel?”

“Now more than ever.”

“Do you love Erin.”

“Now more than ever.”

“You’re human.” Patty says the two words so definitely, Holtz stops to consider if she’s been wrong this whole time. “And what good is there in thinking otherwise?”

Holtz sighs and lifts her palms to the sky. “I guess there is none. Geeze, Patty, can’t a girl sulk in her shit emotions for a while?”

“Not for long.” Patty pats the top of Holtz’s head. “I think we should go inside and get back to work. What do you say?”

“If you ever have kids, you’d make a great mom, Patricia.”

“No kids in my future. I already got my hands full with you.”

0-0-0

“This was a great idea.” Abby leans back in the booth, satisfied with the food, company, and atmosphere.

Patty bows forward and accepts the generous praise. “We’ve all been a little stressed lately. Perfect time for a girl’s night.”

“Jillian Holtzmann, Radio Times.” Holtz leans across the table and uses a spoon as a microphone. “Do you ever get tired of always being correct.”

“Y’know, it is a heavy burden to carry, but I think I do it fabulously.”

“Sure do.” Erin lifts her cup in toast, and although they only have water, they all clink their glasses together and slug back their drinks. “I’m really grateful to have all of you in my life.”

Holtz stands suddenly and clears her throat. “I have something to say.”

Silence falls over the table until Erin manages a quiet: “Oh, sure. Go for it.”

“Physics is the study of movement of bodies in space, and it can unlock the mysteries of the universe. But it cannot answer the essential question of what is our purpose here.” Holtz gazes at Erin and clears her throat. “To me, the purpose of life is to love, and to love is what you have shown me. I, uh, know I haven’t been the, uh, most stable person in your guys’s lives lately, but I am really going to try and be better. You all are my family, and I am so grateful for your unwavering support. Thank you.”

Erin holds her hands as soon as she sits down. “Holtz, that was lovely.”

“I can have feelings sometimes,” Holtz jokes, attempting to hide her honest emotions behind comic relief.

“Holtzmann does have a heart!” Abby grins.

“Ah, but if I only had a brain.”

“If you’re the Scarecrow, then I call dibs on Dorothy.” Patty sits taller and points at Erin. “You can be the Cowardly Lion.”

“Hey!”

“And Abby, you’re the Tin Man.”

“Why me?”

“Okay, listen, y’all. Erin, you don’t stand up for yourself. You gotta find your courage. And Abby, you may not experience romantic attraction, but damn, girl, you love Jenn in some fashion, and you’re just letting her slip away. Your brain and your heart are not in-sync.”

Abby throws her hands up. “Jenn is just--”

“At this rate, she’s not even gonna be your friend.”

“She’s got a point,” Erin puts in. “I don’t know what’s going on with you two, but--”

“It was going too well,” Abby interrupts. “I’m not used to that, and I screwed it up, okay?”

“How’d you manage that?”

“I told her she was being too clingy.”

Erin stares. “But--”

“I know, okay? It hurt her feelings, and I’m just not good enough of a person to apologize. My self-destruct instincts were kicking in hardcore, and it felt like if I didn’t do something soon, she’d hurt me.”

Erin recognizes that their joint past might have something to do with Abby’s position and winces. “Abby…”

“Look, it’s okay. It’s my life, and she was just a good lay. I’ll find another.”

Although Erin doubts this is the whole truth, she glances at Patty and Holtz, and they silently agree to let the matter go, at least for the time being. The waitress brings their dessert, and all conversation is forsaken in the name of cheesecake.


	74. Chapter 74

Erin activates the device and waits. Patty and Abby peer over her shoulder, and when the small indicator light flares to life, all three exchange excited looks. They leave Kevin in charge--and Abby audibly prays that this isn’t a mistake--and head out into the city. The more insistent the flickering of the indicator, the more sure they are that they’re on the right path.

The device leads them across town to a dive bar, which looks sort of pathetic in the bright light of day. Erin hesitates before entering, wondering what on Earth their target would be doing in such a place. She supposes, however, that this place is as good as any to hide out, and the Hidden Pearl is definitely not somewhere they would have checked without the device. With this in mind, she pushes the door open and steps inside.

The lights are low, and soft bass music beats around them. There are a few secluded tables lining the walls, almost all of which are unoccupied, and a bar lined with empty stools. Maybe the device is wrong, Erin considers as she inspects the room. The only people here are a few customers and the bartender. Still, she chooses to trust the device.

She approaches the bartender and clears her throat. “This might seem like a weird question, but have you seen a woman come through here?”

The bartender, a tall, built woman with a wide grin and stretched ears, stops wiping down the surfaces around her and laughs. “I see a lot of women come through here. It’s a lesbian bar, baby.”

Erin’s cheeks warm. “I meant--”

“I know what you meant. Jilly said you were easy to fluster, but damn.” The bartender tosses her rag over one shoulder.

“Jilly?”

“Holtzmann,” the woman corrects. “She’s in back. She’s gonna be disappointed, though. She bet me you’d take a lot longer to find her.”

Erin blinks, unsure of what to make of this information. “You know her?”

“Used to, anyway. Before she died. I’m Alice.”

“Erin.”

“Oh, I know.” Alice extends her hand. “It’s nice to be able to put a face with the name.”

Erin shakes her hand and gestures to the women behind her. “Patty and Abby.”

“Nice to meet you all. Head on back, and collect your target.”

Erin moves in the direction Alice gestures and wonders why Holtz never mentioned this woman or this place. As soon as she spots Holtz chilling on a beanbag in what appears to be a very casual office space, she can’t help but ask, “Old friend?”

“Very old, but don’t tell her I said that.” Holtz winks.

“She single?”

Holtz grins at Patty and nods. “Yeah. You into older women? ‘Cause women are definitely like wine--we get better with age.”

“What Cathy comic did you steal that from?”

“Actually got it from a birthday card. Happy Fiftieth, Pam.” Holtz drags herself up and takes the device from Erin’s hands. “So, it actually worked?”

“You’re surprised?” Abby snorts derisively.

“A little, to be honest. I definitely didn’t think it’d work so well you’d find me already.”

Erin touches the small of her back. “You should have more confidence. Your inventions are brilliant, and so are you.”

“You’re contractually obligated to say that. You’re dating me,” Holtz teases.

“I’m not, and I’ll vouch for you.”

Smiling at Abby, Holtz shrugs. “I guess I can’t fight this feeling anymore. So, we set to go on our witch hunt?”

“I think so. At least on the tracking end. Do we know how we’re going to deal with Mother Smithe once we find her? I don’t think talking to her is going to help much.”

“We need to get your belt back. From there, we’ll trap her.”

“Does she need to be punished? Someone got killed.” Holtz’s hands tremble. Erin grabs them to provide steadiness and comfort. “Shouldn’t we hold her responsible?”

“I don’t think we can.”

Patty shrugs. “She’ll be trapped in a box for eternity. I think that’s punishment.”

Holtz sighs and shakes her head. “I’ve talked to some of our ghosts. They don’t have any idea of time passing in the containers. It’s not a punishment, no more so than just being a ghost in the first place.”

“You’ve talked to ghosts?” Erin sputters, while Patty and Abby spurt out similar statements. “When did this happen? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I wanted to test it myself. And it didn’t happen that long ago. A month or two.”

“Are you serious?” Abby grabs Holtz’s shoulders. “That’s amazing.”

“Did you talk to our museum?” Patty shoves past Abby, and Holtz grins up at her.

“A little. Not many of them say much. My favorite is Jeb.”

“Jeb! Which one is he? What did he tell you?”

Holtz shrugs. “Just, y’know, his life before he died.”

“That’s incredibly important information. We are so gonna talk later.”

Finally, when the hubbub dies down, Holtz realizes that Erin is very quiet. She directs her attention and frowns. “I didn’t not tell you just to hurt your feelings.”

“I know.” Erin musters a smile. “It’s pretty cool, huh?”

“And how.”

Erin lets Abby and Patty take care of filling Holtz in on their journey across town. She adds in a word or two to seem more engaged, but her mind is elsewhere. While she understands that Holtz doesn’t have to share everything with her, she worries that they’re drifting apart. In this one day, she’s discovered more about Holtz than she expected, and she wants to know more.

0-0-0

Since they’re already at an establishment that serves food, they decide as a group to get a soft drink before returning to the firehouse--if only to give Patty time to flirt with Alice, who seems receptive to the attention. She alerts them to several of Holtz’s childhood mistakes, which makes Holtz flush and holler in turn. Erin sips her Diet Coke and sulks.

When they get back outside, Holtz laces their fingers together as they walk, and her sullied mood skyrockets. She doesn’t regret feeling horrible about what happened, but she has hope that they’ll talk it through later that evening. Holtz is trying, and she’s going to, as well.


	75. Chapter 75

“You’re keeping her happy, aren’t you?”

Holtz glowers at her mother and scoots lower in her chair. “Yeah, mom. I am.”

Willa turns her attention to Erin. “Is she?”

“She’s been great,” Erin hurries to supply. While she wants to be completely honest and open with Holtz’s mom, she also doesn’t want to air out any of the tiny disagreements they’ve had. After all, they’ve both been working on things, and she knows there’s no point in bringing up dead issues--especially to a third party. “Absolutely.”

“I’m glad to hear it. She takes time away from her work to be with you?”

“We’re both a little fixated on work, actually.” Erin laughs as Holtz kicks her under the table. “She takes as much time away as I do.”

“We eat dinner together every night,” Holtz adds, “and Erin won’t let us leave for work without a conversation over coffee.”

“Good.” Willa beams at them, and Erin is elated. She knows her meddling caused Holtz some pain in the beginning, but she’s gratified to see them together--to know that Holtz doesn’t have to carry that guilt around with her anymore.

“So, tell me about your latest project.”

While Holtz launches into an explanation, Erin excuses herself to use the bathroom. She heads down the hall, eyes scanning the family photos on the walls. Holtz has gotten taller and quirkier, but there’s something familiar in each photograph. There’s one with Willa, Julian, and Holtz standing in front of the house, smiling, and she feels a little sad that she’ll never get to meet Julian. From what Holtz has told her, he was extremely influential in her life. She touches a fingertip to his face before continuing to the bathroom.

By the time she returns, she finds Holtz arguing vehemently with Willa, who has retrieved a photo album from another room. Sliding into her seat, she folds her fingers and waits for them to notice her. Holtz does so quickly and tells her to shut her eyes. Instead, she rolls them and holds her hand out.

“Please tell me there are some juicy embarrassing pictures for blackmail.”

“I’m her mother,” Willa replies, holding a hand over her heart. “Of course there are.”

Eager, Erin opens the tome and flips through the baby pictures. As per her expectations, Holtz is adorable, from her open-mouthed, toothless grins to the pictures where she’s throwing a temper tantrum. Willa assures her that Holtz had the strongest lungs in the neighborhood, and Holtz groans loudly as if to prove her point. Erin flips further and spots a bespectacled Holtz around the age of eight or ten, holding a busted up robot proudly in her hands.

“We knew pretty early on that she was going to do something great,” Willa confides. “That robot was a monster, but it was a damn fine one.”

“He wasn’t a monster.”

“He broke the vase holding your grandmother’s ashes.”

Holtz huffs and puffs but says no more. Erin gazes from picture to picture, taking in Holtz with braces, Holtz in Halloween costumes, and Holtz looking miserable in a snowbank. Eventually, she reaches high school and finds a picture of Holtz and Alice curled up in a pile on the floor, blankets draped on pillows and furniture around them.

“I saw Alice the other day,” Holtz says.

Willa brightens. “How is she doing?”

“Basically running a gay bar downtown. It’s pretty nice. I’m not saying I’m jealous…”

“You should tell her to give me a call sometime. I’d love to hear more about her life from her, since you obviously didn’t find out enough on your own.”

Holtz waves her hand and blows a raspberry in Willa’s direction. “I have tons of time to get to know everything about her again.”

Willa leans toward Erin. “They were best friend in high school until Alice got a girlfriend.”

“Mo-om. Erin doesn’t need to hear that story.”

“I’d like to,” Erin says.

“Alice was always a social butterfly. I don’t have the slightest idea what she saw in Jilly--”

“Mom!”

“I’m kidding, darling.” Willa chuckles and places her hand on Erin’s forearm. “In all seriousness, though, Alice always had a bunch of little friends. That she’d get a girlfriend wasn’t surprising. But she started spending more and more time with--what was her name?”

“Laura.”

“Right. Laura. And less time with Jilly.”

“So, I got a little jealous. Whatever.”

“A little?” Willa snorts. “You locked yourself in your room for a week and swore you’d never make another friend again.”

“That’s not how I remember it. At all,” Holtz stutters. She glances at Erin and smiles nervously.

Erin cocks an eyebrow. “And how do you remember it?”

“I was totally cool and collected the entire time. Her spending time with Laura was fine, and I handled being abandoned just fine.”

“Right,” Erin replies, elongating the word to show her disbelief.

“I didn’t have many friends.” Holtz shrugs. “I clung pretty tight to the ones I did.”

“I’m glad you found her again. This is such a great second chance for you.”

Holtz hesitates but nods. “It definitely is. I’m really glad I got to talk to you again, mom. When I… When I was in the fire, I just kept thinking that I’d never get to see you again. I’d never get to apologize.”

Willa stands and moves around the table, so she can hug Holtz to her midsection. They stand quietly and still for almost a minute, and Erin feels like she’s infringing on something very private.

Willa wipes at her eyes when she releases Holtz and says, “I always regretted not being able to speak to you again, too.”

Holtz drags her wrist under her nose; Erin shudders and wishes they had tissues on hand. “Well, good thing we have Erin. Without her, none of this would be possible.”

“It was your design for the belt--”

“If it weren’t you living in that apartment, I wouldn’t have shown myself. You’re a special lady, Ms. Gilbert.”

Erin’s cheeks flare warm. “Oh, be quiet, Holtzmann.”

“You still make her call you Holtzmann?” Willa shakes her head. “No, Erin. Call her Jill or Jilly.”

“She prefers Holtzmann--”

“Jilly?”

Holtz shrugs helplessly. “Nobody calls me Jilly, except you an Alice.”

“And now Erin. If you’re sleeping in her bed, she gets to use your first name. I’m fairly certain that’s how it works.”

Erin laughs and tries it out. “Oh, Jilly, thank you for bringing me with to see your mother today.”

“Erin, I swear--”

“No swearing in front of your mother,” Willa admonishes.

“Oh, great. Now, you two can team up on me.” Holtz throws her hands in the air. “This was such a mistake!”


	76. Chapter 76

Erin wakes up with Holtz draped over her chest. She’s gotten used to such occurrences, and she doesn’t move for several minutes; instead, she closes her eyes again and soaks in the early morning atmosphere. Holtz’s comforting weight keeps her grounded as her mind categorizes the soft scent of Holtz’s hair, the muted beat of the overhead fan, and the plush feeling of the sheets on her feet. She doesn’t fall asleep again, but she rests easy, content with exactly how things are.

“When are we going to get out of bed?” Holtz asks, her voice quiet in case Erin is still sleeping.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“No.”

“Weren’t tired?”

Holtz is quiet for a moment but eventually answers, “Not really. Lot on my mind.”

“Anything you want to talk about?”

“Inventions, mostly. I feel like there’s so much I need to make. All I can think about at night is blueprints.”

Erin rubs her back. “We should try some meditation.”

“It doesn’t bother me, honestly.” Holtz grins at her crookedly. “I get a lot of processing done this way.”

“If you’re sure--”

“Positive. I’m not like you. If I don’t sleep, there’s no negative repercussion.”

Erin waits until Holtz dismounts her before sitting up and running a hand through her tangled hair. She trusts Holtz to be an expert on her own needs, although she’s a bit skeptical that Holtz is as a-okay as she claims to be. When Holtz is ready to talk, she will, and Erin will be patient until then.

Until then, there’s work to do and social responsibilities--like visiting her parents, which is both rewarding and frustrating. They’re trying so hard. She just wishes they weren’t struggling so visibly. The way they act, it’s as if she’s brought some hardship into their life that they can work around, but golly if it isn’t a burden on them. She also meets several times with the mayor’s office, where she fails to make nice with Jenn on two separate occasions, even though she’s trying to help Abby rekindle the intimacy.

Enough time passes that she forgets her suspicions, and Holtz carries on without a problem.

0-0-0

They step outside of their most recent bust and find a group of reporters gathered around. Erin cringes, remembering how the mayor’s office insisted that they lie to the press, claim that they were investigating claims and finding nothing. Their museum is written off quickly as clever illusions, good for an afternoon of cheap fun but not to be taken seriously. She hates to see her validation washed down the drain, but they need the mayor’s funding, at least for now. Additionally, without knowing exactly how the mayor is involved with Mother Smithe, they want to play nice.

Which is why she grabs Holtz by the collar and jerks back when Holtz steps up to the waiting microphones. She doesn’t trust Holtz to play by the rules in this scenario, and she’s incredibly relieved when Patty answers the questions instead. Holtz doesn’t mention the slight to her, but she gets the feeling she hurt Holtz’s feelings by getting in the way.

When they’re back at the station, she lightly touches Holtz’s arm. Holtz ignores her. She calls Holtz’s name, and this time, Holtz turns her head.

“Hey. What’s up?” Holtz’s voice is guileless, as if she hadn’t just ignored Erin’s hand on her arm.

Strange though that is, Erin forges forward with her own agenda. “Holtz, I’m sorry about that earlier. I just didn’t think you could avoid making ghost puns, and we’ve been ordered to take this whole thing with the press seriously.”

“Oh, boo,” Holtz responds. “I was just going to give them a spirited play-by-play of what happened inside.”

Erin rolls her eyes. “That’s exactly what I mean.”

“I know. It’s totally fine. Patty knocked it out of the park, anyway. Have we considered electing her our official spokesperson?”

“No, but we should. So, we’re okay?”

“I’d tell you if we weren’t.” Holtz kisses her cheek. “You gotta trust that I will.”

“I do.”

0-0-0

Abby and Erin sit in the car and watch the Smithe house for signs of activity. This is the fourth day of their stakeout, and Erin just wants to go home. They haven’t seen Mother Smithe in the area, and neither have Holtz and Patty, who take over every other day. This feels like a waste of time, but Abby wants to cover their bases, just in case Holtz’s new device doesn’t actually function as planned. If they can just get an idea of where their ghostly foe is, they can plan their attack better--and this is the location of her last sighting.

“Does Holtz seem better to you?” Erin asks after an hour of silence.

“Better?”

“Happier. More at ease.”

Abby tilts her head back and forth and then nods. “Yeah, I could see that. She’s more like her old self. Chill and goofy.”

“I think the therapy is actually really helping.”

“I’m happy for you two. I have to admit that I was a little worried for a while.”

“Me, too, to be honest.” Erin returns her gaze to the empty house. “I really love her.”

“I know.”

“Do you still think she’s going to turn malevolent?”

Abby reaches into a backpack and fishes out a bag of goldfish crackers. She cracks the bag, pops some in her mouth, and shrugs. “She’s the only one of her kind, and we know absolutely nothing about the effects of extended materialization. I’d like to say that I’m entirely confident that how she is now will be permanent, but I just… I’m your best friend, Erin, and I’m not going to lie to make you feel better. I think just about anything can happen, although I hope it doesn’t.”

“That’s fair.” Erin reaches for a cracker.

“Your parents coming around, yet?”

“Trying to.” Erin sighs and crunches the cracker. “It’s a lot, all at once. But I think they missed me.”

“Don’t let them treat you like trash, okay?” Abby looks at her very seriously. “No telling you to go to therapy, no calling you crazy--none of that. They do it, and you tell me, got it?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know. But I can take care of them.”

Erin sputters with laughter. “Thanks, Abby. But please, don’t put a hit out on my parents.”

“No hits,” Abby promises, holding a hand over her heart. “If I need anything done, I’ll do it myself.”


	77. Chapter 77

Erin sends her article to Abby for feedback, and she feels like she’s back in college, when they were both seeking their undergraduate degrees--before she messed everything up by leaving. College felt like a lifetime ago, and she supposes enough time has passed to make that somewhat true. She is no longer a scared little girl, praying for acceptance and validation, and Abby is no longer as gruffly and roughly forceful.

This is for the best. Erin thinks they’ve sort of settled into themselves, as she is capable of validating herself and Abby no longer attacks people who disagree with her. Yet, they’ve also remained the same in the ways that truly matter.

She refocuses her thoughts and scrolls through recent news articles. Usually, the news just depresses her, but with so few leads on Mother Smithe’s location, she’s willing to keep an eye out for oddities and questionable occurrences. At the top of the second page, she spots something about their operation, so she clicks the link and reads the article. She drums her fingers on the desk while she reads and frowns deeply by the end. It’s been awhile since she’s been called crazy, and her response doesn’t seem to have changed much. She wants to track down this Chad Mulaney and punch him for insinuating that she’s making any of this up.

Not everything about her has changed, she realizes with a bark of laughter.

Holtz glances up at the noise and cocks her head. “Something funny?”

“Not really.” Erin sobers and closes her laptop. “Just thinking about how much and how little people change.”

“Ain’t that the truth.”

“What are you working on?”

“I was thinking that part of the problem with m’lady Smithe is that she’s got the belt on, and we don’t know how the blasters will interact with her, right? So, I’m working on ways to shut the belt down remotely to return her to ghost form. I figure once she’s a ghost again, we can zap her quick and end this.”

“Have you come up with anything?”

“Not that won’t shut down power to the entire neighborhood.”

Erin places a hand on Holtz’s shoulder and squeezes. “You’ll come up with something.”

“I hope so. Otherwise, we’ve got a hell of a fight on our hands.”

Erin returns to her seat and brings her screen back up. She once again searches for the Smithe family, and just like every other attempt, she finds nothing new or noteworthy. All this sitting around is making her antsy.

0-0-0

The explosion rocks the building, and Holtz’s laughter barely registers over the ringing in Erin’s ears. She stumbles toward the billowing smoke, coughing and waving a hand. Patty is right behind her, and together, they stumble into Holtz’s work space. Abby is already there blasting a fire extinguisher. As a team, they douse the fire, clear the air, and glare at Holtz, who looks remarkably unperturbed by the incident.

“You have anything to say for yourself?” Patty stands, hands akimbo.

“It was pretty great.” Holtz claps her hands.

Abby peers at a scorched piece of metal plating. “What was it?”

Gesticulating widely and with great flourish, Holtz directs their attention to her worktable. “That, my dear friends, was my first attempt at a portable power source for your packs. They’re big and clunky--but not for long.”

“I’d prefer having back pain to being blown up,” Patty replies.

“Ah, there’s always room for improvement. It’s the nature of science.” Holtz sounds a bit too proud of her mess, but Erin is just glad to see Holtz having a good time again.

“You better clean this up.”

Holtz dips into a bow and winks at Patty. “But of course. Anyone want to help?” After the resulting silence, Holtz huffs and puffs. “You all want to eat my bread, but you aren’t willing to help plow the field or plant the wheat or--”

“I’ll help,” Erin interjects, before Holtz’s storybook reference can continue. Holtz beams at her, and she warms considerably.

0-0-0

“How was therapy?”

Holtz strides into the apartment and falls dramatically to the floor. “I don’t want to talk about therapy.”

“Oh.”

“How was dinner with your parents?”

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

Holtz snorts and rolls onto her side. “So, they’re totally cool with us living together and me being a ghost and your job as a ghostbuster and all your research into the paranormal.”

“Having a ghost in your living room definitely helps.” Erin hedges. “I think it’d help if you came out to dinner with us next time.”

Holtz clears her throat and shrugs. “I just want to give you time with them. I know you spent a lot of time being at odds, right? You don’t always need me there, reminding them of how they were wrong.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“You know what I would like to do with you?”

Erin rolls her eyes, sure that something dirty or strange is about to pop out of Holtz’s mouth. “What?”

“Curl up and watch a movie. It’s supposed to storm later, and I think that’d just be cozy and nice.”

Brightening, Erin nods. “I’ll grab my laptop. Did you have a movie in mind?”

“Classic Batman, all the way.”

“It’s so cheesy.” Erin considers this and nods. “I can see why you like it.”

Holtz squawks. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’re cheesy, and it’s cheesy, so it’s a good, cheesy match.”

“I am not cheesy.”

“Uh-huh.” Erin collects her laptop from where it’s charging and grabs a glass of water from the kitchen. Holtz doesn’t want anything, so they retire to the bedroom together, and Erin brings up Netflix. While she works, Holtz tries ever so hard to convince her that she’s the cheesy one.

0-0-0

At six the next morning, Erin fumbles for her phone, which is vibrating incessantly by her ear. Patty tells her that they got a call about Mother Smithe, so get off Holtzmann, get dressed, and get down there. Erin blushes and responds only that they’ll be there soon. When she tosses the phone aside, she realizes she’s alone in bed. She grabs a robe and hurries out into the living room.

“Holtz?”

“You’re awake?” Holtz pops out of the kitchen, acting like there’s nothing strange about this moment.

“Patty called. We have to get down to the firehouse. I don’t know much, but it’s something about Mother Smithe.”

“Hot damn!” Holtz skips past her and heads for the closet, where she rummages for an appropriate outfit.

Erin heads to the shower, her mind churning. For all Holtz is chipper once more, there’s something not quite right.


	78. Chapter 78

Abby slaps Holtz’s back.

Erin watches from a distance with a frown marring her expression. Holtz doesn’t react to the touch, at least not initially. She does, of course, respond to Abby tugging her around and ruffling her hair--but Erin isn’t convinced. None of them allowed too close to the belt anymore, not since Holtz took over its modifications and claimed it as her personal project. Erin wonders if every change has been an upgrade these days.

“You look serious.”

“We’re on our way to fight a ghost,” Erin replies quietly. “Isn’t that reason enough to be serious?”

“Maybe,” Patty allows. “But this looks a bit intense for you.”

Erin shrugs and sinks lower in her seat. She doesn’t want to cast dispersions on Holtz, especially without taking the time to ask Holtz directly. Still, Patty is generally an objective source of information and feedback. “I’m just a little worried that something’s not right with Holtz’s belt.”

“How so?”

“She’s slow to react to physical stimuli.” Erin fumbles for a better explanation--for something else to justify her concern--and comes up empty. That Holtz is in a good mood doesn’t seem like sufficient evidence for her claim. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling, and that’s not good science--”

“But you gotta go with your gut sometimes.” Patty glances at Holtz and cocks an eyebrow. “Holtz has been a little more exuberant lately. More like how she was when you first brought her around.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing, right?”

“Right.”

“Please don’t make a big deal out of this. I’m going to ask her about it soon. I just…”

“You’re worried that something is wrong.”

Erin nods slowly and clears her throat. “Right now, it’s okay because she’s Schroedinger's ghost. There’s nothing wrong until I ask.”

“You know that ain’t right.”

“I know.”

“Ask her.”

“I will.” Erin stares down at her hands. “Eventually.”

0-0-0

They march into the abandoned warehouse with their weapons raised and their eyes scanning for any sign of life, or rather death. Erin grips her wand loosely, aware that a tight grip makes for poor agility, and scoots deeper into the space, which is much too quiet for her tastes. The call they received had been frantic and scared, but the person making the call hadn’t left a name and wasn’t present when they arrived.

Erin is afraid that this is a setup of some sort, and they’re marching straight into a trap. Unfortunately, they go after every call that’s placed, especially with the mayor footing the bill. This makes them vulnerable, Erin recognizes, because someone can make a haunting up, lure them inside a building, and then attack them. Before Mother Smithe, she hadn’t even thought this to be a possible problem, but now, she feels like they’re being hunted.

“Boo,” Holtz whispers.

She glares back. “Can we try being serious about this?”

“Sorry. But our equipment is seriously awesome, and we won’t have a problem, no matter what the Asshole has whipped up for us.”

Rolling her eyes, Erin strides forward. She knows Holtz is hot on her heels, as are the other women, so she eases through a doorway and examines an empty room with the full confidence that help was not far from her should danger arise. There are papers cluttering a desk on the far wall, and she hurries over to flip through them. Her curiosity is rewarded, as she finds various plans for chips based on Holtzmann’s original design.

“Guys, I found something--”

Her call is abruptly interrupted as something lands against the side of her head, and she topples gracelessly to the floor. She ought to scream, she thinks a moment before passing out.

0-0-0

Holtz dances through the building, poking her gun in doorways and pretending to fire at spiderwebs. It’s clear to her that whoever placed this emergency call--and rudely interrupted her morning with Erin--had no legitimate haunting at all, and this was an exercise in futility. She’s glad for the reprieve, however, as she’d gotten a little exhausted by all their calls. Despite being a ghost, she has limits on her ability to keep wading through the same problems over and over again.

Near the door, she runs into Abby and Patty once more. She lifts her hand in greeting before glancing around for Erin. “Anyone seen Gilbert?”

“She was with you,” Abby says, her voice tightening with every syllable.

“No, pretty sure she wasn’t. We traded pleasantries, but that was awhile ago.”

Patty stares at her. “You aren’t worried your girl isn’t here?”

“She’s around somewhere.” Holtz shrugs. “Look, there’s nobody in this building. I bet Erin got bored and went back to the Ecto-1.”

“I doubt it,” Abby puts in. She exchanges a look with Patty and then gestures for both women to follow her. “We stick together this time, got it?”

Holtz throws her hands up but doesn’t verbally complain. She tails after Patty and Abby, who take their time checking each room. Her nonchalance lasts until they enter the room with the papers on the desk, and she spots Erin’s tiny bow tie on the ground. She strides over, scoops the bow tie up, and frowns.

“Erin never goes anywhere without her tiny bow ties.”

“Are you finally acting like a real person?” Patty snatches the bow tie from her hand. “Y’know, Holtz, I wasn’t sure Erin was right when she thought something was up with you--but it really seems like there is. Don’t you care at all that she’s missing? Maybe even kidnapped?”

The question strikes Holtz like a physical blow. She steps backward, one hand on her belt, and retorts, “Of course I care.”

“Then act like it.”

Abby ignores them both in favor of tugging out her trusty cotton-candy machine, as Erin dubbed the device. She holds it aloft and purses her lips as it whirls to life near a bookcase. Examining the tomes, she finds one that’s not as dusty as the others and tugs. Behind it, she finds a switch, which she flicks immediately. The bookcase shifts sideways, revealing a dark passageway.

Holtz and Patty stop bickering, and Abby gestures for them to follow her. “We can argue about this later, once Erin is safe. Until then, just get along, hm?”

Patty waves a hand. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

“Implying that she does have to worry about me.” Holtz resists the urge to jostle Patty as she rushes by. “You don’t have to do that for me, either. I’m ready to rescue my damsel in distress.”


	79. Chapter 79

Erin first notices that she can’t breathe through her nose. That thought fades quickly as she rapidly discovers just how much pain she’s in. She struggles to reach up and clutch her face, but her wrists are bound behind her back. Crying out weakly, she opens her mouth and unwittingly lets a steady trickle of blood onto her tongue. She recoils from the coppery taste and pries her eyes open. A figure paces in front of her.

“Where am I?” she stutters around the blood. Speaking hurts almost as much as breathing, but she can’t just sit idle and hope for rescue.

The figure halts before stepping into the light--Mother Smithe, she recognizes. Smithe assesses her coldly. “Unimportant.”

Erin knows there a number of cliche things she can say, ranging from ‘You’ll never get away with this!’ to begging for her life, but she doesn’t much feel like wasting her energy. Clearly, Smithe has plans for her, and no amount of conversation will change that. Instead, she invests her concentration in ascertaining anything she can about her surroundings. The lighting is dim, but she can still see a few chairs along the wall, a desk, and a bulletin board. There’s a dark doorway, but she’s much too far away to even hope to scoot herself out.

Tears trickle down her cheeks, although she doesn’t want to appear weak in front of her captor. Thankfully, Smithe doesn’t appear to notice her in the slightest, and the moisture splatters down without an audience.

0-0-0

Holtz skitters down the hallway, mentally kicking herself for her laissez-faire approach to what’s happening. She wants to throw her belt against the wall, but she understands that acting out like this will solve absolutely nothing. Indeed, being destructive would most likely make things worse. She settles for clenching her tongue between her teeth and pressing down until there’s some sensation of pain.

“I see a light,” Abby whispers and grabs her arm. “Slow it down. Unless you want to just barge into the situation unprepared.”

Holtz wants to respond that this is her approach to most everything. She grits her teeth, however, and nods. If this were only her well-being at stake, she’d barrel straight into danger; with Erin at risk, she’s not nearly as daring.

“What do you suggest?”

“Go ghost. Don’t materialize at all. Get a good look at what’s ahead.”

Holtz hesitates. “The Asshole’s replicated a lot of my tech. What if she’s got a ghost trap, too?”

“Then enter the room not through the doorway.” Abby stares at her. “Are you a ghost or not?”

“Right,” Holtz replies, flicking her fingers in a casual salute. “Keep track of my belt. I’ll be right back.”

Dropping the belt, Holtz spirits away through the walls. She loops through a few empty spaces before entering the room where Erin sits, her head hanging low so that a mixture of blood and saliva drizzle onto her lap. A ripple of anger courses through her, and she damn near becomes visible, even knowing that she’s essentially useless without her belt. She controls her temper and zips back to her friends.

“She’s in that room.”

“Was there anyone in there with her?”

“I think so. I didn’t see anyone, but she’s tied up and beaten--and she didn’t do that to herself.”

Patty adjusts her pack and stands a little taller. “Nobody hurts Erin. Nobody.”

Abby nods. “Did you spot anything near the door? Like a booby trap?”

“It was clear.”

“Then let’s roll.”

Holtz hurriedly gets her pack back on and leads the way down the hallway. They storm the room.

0-0-0

Erin lifts her head in time to see her teammates rampage in. Her head wobbles with the effort of looking up, and she nearly starts crying again at the sight. That they’re there to rescue her warms her belly--but they’re in danger because of her, and she can’t muster the energy to warn them properly. Instead, she splatters blood as she tries to make a noise in warning.

In an instant, Holtz is by her side. She tilts her head toward the back of the room, where Smithe is lurking, but Holtz doesn’t pay any attention to their surroundings at all. Rather, Holtz rips off a bit of her uniform and sloppily mops up Erin’s face as gently as she can. Erin appreciates the tender effort, but this is not the time for it.

“Erin, I’m so sorry. I didn’t take this seriously--and now look at you.” Holtz fumbles with her restraints. “And I’m sorry about everything lately. I didn’t even realize it, but I have changed, haven’t I? Patty said you were worried about me, and I’m sorry I made you worry.”

“Smithe,” Erin groans.

“I know.” Holtz rocks back when her fingers are too shaky to be responsive. She glances at Patty and Abby, who flank them with wands at the ready. “We’ll get her.”

“She did this to you?” Abby asks, although it’s painfully obvious that Smithe is the only one who would have. Erin manages a small nod.

“Bitch, get out here!”

Holtz grins at Patty’s direct approach. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Patty, who no longer seems pissed about her behavior, smiles back. “I bet she’s just afraid we’ll bust her ass.”

The light in the room flickers, and Smithe steps out of the shadows. She examines them all silently for a long moment. “I’m not afraid of you palty ghostbusters. Your little toys won’t stop me.”

Holtz doesn’t waste another second; she blasts her weapon, but the beam glances off Smithe ineffectually. The belt, she realizes, is somehow counteracting the effects of their proton packs. She needs to get the belt off if they want to stop Smithe. She lowers her weapon, much to the shouted dismay of her teammates. They’ll figure it out, too, sooner or later. There’s no point in taking a violent, head-on attack.

“What do you want?”

Smithe’s lips curl back into a semblance of a smile. “My boy.”

“Well, he’s kind of busy right now,” Holtz says with a dismissive shrug. “Sorry.”

Erin’s chair flies across the room, and she cries as she impacts the far wall. Holtz steps forward, but Smithe raises a hand. “Don’t trifle with me.”

“We aren’t,” Holtz promises. “We won’t parfait with you, either.”

Abby elbows her. “What my colleague means is that we’re not trying to slight you.”

“Right.” Holtz lifts her hands defensively. “Just give us our friend back.”

“You’ll get her when you deliver my son.”


	80. Chapter 80

Thinking fast, Holtz offers, “Come with us to the firehouse, and we’ll make the trade.”

“I’m not stupid, Jillian. You will bring him here.”

“Nah. See, if we release him here, he’ll just go back to your house. He’s haunting that location, so that’s where he’s tethered.”

Smithe’s expression distorts. She clenches her hand into a fist, which she waves dangerously near Erin’s visage. “I see no issue, as long as you give him that belt.”

“This belt only works because I’m tethered to an item rather than a location. The power source won’t be sufficient to materialize your kid,” Holtz lies. She keeps her attention on Smithe but chances the occasional glance at Erin; the other woman is crying silently and dribbling on the ground. She’s glad her emotional responses are dulled, otherwise she’d be in a fury.

“He wore it before.”

“I’ve made changes since then to avoid the same situation.”

“Then you will revert the belt to its previous iteration.”

“That’ll take time. I won’t leave Dr. Gilbert in your tender care until then. Besides, she’s essential to the process of belt creation and maintenance.” Holtz realizes she has a valuable opportunity if she can just get close enough to pop Smithe’s belt off. However, if she doesn’t play this right, Smithe will be suspicious and might get away. “She’s the one responsible for the belt in the first place, really. She knows more than I do.”

“Holtz?” Abby steps forward and grabs her arm. “What are you--”

“It’s cool,” Holtz interrupts, afraid that Abby is going to give her away. She tugs free and turns back to Smithe.

Smithe considers her statement seriously. “She will perform the necessary modifications here and now.”

“I don’t know,” Holtz replies quickly. “With how badly you’ve beaten her, I doubt she’ll be much use. Let us take her home.”

Her gambit is subtle, and she holds her breath. If Smithe thinks that getting Erin back is her ploy, then she can more safely approach in a few moments. She’s used this technique many times over the course of her life--primarily as an escape mechanism when she was a child. A clever distraction was the best way to avoid being grounded for life, and she hopes it will be sufficient to turn the tide of this situation.

“No.” Smithe’s voice is rigid and sharp. “She will remain here. She will change the belt immediately.”

The restraints holding Erin in place pop free, but Erin doesn’t move. Holtz trembles. “May I help her up?”

“Holtzmann--”

She glowers at Patty. “This is the only way we’re getting out of here. You just get Erin to a hospital when this is over.”

This sounds close enough to their staged conversation during the drop off of the belt before, and Holtz knows Patty and Abby now understand that she has a plan. At Smithe’s behest, she moves forward very slowly with her hands raised. She squats at Erin’s side and gently cups Erin’s cheeks.

“Erin, think you’re up for this?”

“N-n-n…”

Holtz doesn’t flinch when spittle flecked with blood spatters her jumpsuit. “I need you to do this for us, Erin. Then, we can go get Quentin, and you can go get medical attention.”

Erin lifts her shaking hands and places them on Holtz’s belt. “No.”

Holtz smiles sadly and shakes her head, “C’mon, Dr. Gilbert. You got this.”

“Enough.” Smithe lifts a hand, and Erin is suddenly standing. Her legs won’t hold her weight, so Holtz supposes Smithe is keeping Erin aloft somehow. She wants to learn that sort of trick--but that’s a thought for a different time.

“Okay, Erin. I’m going to take the belt off now, so you can work on it.”

“There are tools on the desk to your right,” Smithe instructs. “You have half an hour.”

Holtz kisses Erin and removes her belt. It drops to the ground before Smithe levitates it in front of Erin. As a ghost, Holtz shifts closer and examines the latch on Smithe’s belt, which is a little more advanced than her initial design. Still, it’s nothing that she can’t solve by simply ruining the belt’s circuitry. She sticks her ghost hand into the belt, materializes her fingers, and yanks. With a spark, the belt goes haywire.

Erin and the belt clatter to the floor, and Holtz manifests just enough to yell at Patty and Abby to do the thing. That said, she zooms out of the way and lets them shoot Smithe’s noncorporeal form with their wands. Scrambling back into her belt, Holtz scoops up her abandoned gear, tosses a trap, and aids her friends in forcing Smithe inside. Within moments, Smithe’s screams are contained, along with her spirit.

0-0-0

When Erin opens her eyes, the pain is but a distant dream. She feels like she’s floating, and she smiles goofily at the ceiling. Someone is touching her hand, but that limb feels so, so far away. Someone says her name, too, and she makes an effort to turn her head. Instead, she just gets her eyes to shift to the left. She spots Holtz’s floof of blonde hair and feels content.

“Er, you in there?”

“Mm.”

“I need to change your bandages.”

“Mm.”

“Last time, you punched me. Can you try to sit still this time?”

“Mm.”

She drifts to sleep, unaware of whatever it is Holtz wants to do.

0-0-0

She stares in the mirror and tentatively touches her nose. A flare of pain chases her fingers away, and she grimaces at her reflection. “It’s crooked now.”

“Looks hot,” Holtz assures her. “Looks like you can handle yourself in a fight.”

“I went down like a rock.”

“Well, nobody has to know that. They’ll just know you got your nose busted, and you’re still ready to rumble now.”

Erin considers applying concealer to the dark rings around her eyes. There’s no point, other than putting herself through more pain. The bruising will fade, and until then, she’ll just live with looking like a raccoon.

“I guess.”

Holtz holds her hips and is silent for a few moments. When she speaks, her voice is hesitant. “I think we need to talk. About what’s been going on with me.”

Erin turns, still in Holtz’s grasp, and nods. “I’m willing to listen without judgment.”

“Thank you.” Holtz sets her forehead on Erin’s shoulder. She really doesn’t want to deal with this, but she’s got to.


	81. Chapter 81

They sit on the bed because that’s where Holtz feels most comfortable. She drags a pillow onto her lap as a sort of barrier--something to hide behind physically even though she was putting herself on display emotionally. Thankfully, Erin provides her plenty of space, and she isn’t made to feel crowded. She sucks in a deep breath and orders her thoughts.

“I tampered with my belt, first of all. I thought I should come right out and tell you that.” Holtz avoids making eye contact. “All of that stuff with the post traumatic stress disorder was too much. To go from not feeling anything for ten years, to all of the sudden feeling everything way too loud?” Rubbing her neck, Holtz shrugs. “I mean, that’s definitely no excuse, but it was just such a relief at first. To not feel panic any time something reminded me of dying.”

Erin fiddles with her fingers, wanting to close the distance but not wanting to infringe. Holtz takes pity on her, reaching out to hold her hands. The connection calms them both, and Holtz feels able to continue.

“This is in no way blaming you, but you were so happy that I was feeling better--and I loved that you weren’t worrying about me as much anymore. I felt like less of a burden.”

“You were never a burden,” Erin murmurs, tightening her grasp on Holtz. “I want you to feel better, but not like this.”

“I know.” Holtz dips her head lower. “But talking to that therapist was awkward. I stopped going.”

“Is that why you’d never answer my questions about therapy?”

“I didn’t lie to you, ever, I promise. I just said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

Erin recognizes that Holtz never outright said that’s where she went some evenings during the week. Although lying by omission is often troublesome, she can’t find it within herself to be too upset with Holtz, especially now that Holtz is coming clean with her.

“I understand.”

“Do you?” Holtz finally meets her gaze.

“I do,” she says, her voice quiet and grave. She squeezes Holtz’s hands for good measure. This isn’t a wedding vow, but it is a promise.

“To a certain extent, not feeling much of anything was great. I wasn’t losing my shit over nothing. But I missed feeling your skin and sleeping next to you. By the time I figured out that my belt modifications weren’t ideal, you seemed so pleased with my progress, that I didn’t want to just regress to where I was before. Your happiness mattered more than a silly thing like being fully physical.”

“Holtzmann… I know it’s useless to say this now, but I was only happy because I thought you were happy. I’m so sorry.”

Holtz shakes her head. “I should have talked to you--about everything, but mostly about how awful I was feeling about dying again. Instead, I just pretended nothing was wrong and hoped it would all blow over.”

“What are you going to do now?”

“I’m going to fix my belt.” Holtz hesitates. “I’ll go back to therapy, I guess, but I’d also like to keep talking to you about it. If you want to hear it…?”

“Of course I do.”

The conversation lapses into silence, and Holtz clambers into Erin’s lap. She might not be able to feel much at the moment, but she appreciates the spiritual solace of being cradled in Erin’s arms. She can’t believe she was willing to forego this closeness just to avoid a hefty helping of emotional pain. The pain sucks, but not fully enjoying Erin’s presence sucks more.

0-0-0

Patty sighs and rests her forehead on the desk, drawing the attention of her peers. At Abby’s question, she grimaces and states, “All this shit we gathered from Smithe’s lair does not bode well. She scattered some devices and chips around the city--just to be a pain in our asses, I think. Nothing in her work mentions anything about what the mayor is researching. If only we could ask Jenn--”

“You can,” Abby interjects, glaring.

“If only someone who needs to make up with Jenn could ask Jenn about the mayor’s energy program…”

Abby snorts and selects a piece of paper to study. Knowing that this is going nowhere fast, Erin shrugs. “I’ll go talk to her this afternoon. I have a meeting with the mayor anyway, so I’ll be there.”

“Good.”

Patty huffs. “You’re just putting off the inevitable.”

“Look, I love you, but you gotta stop meddling. The thing about my intimate partners is that it’s not a romantic relationship, full of deep, emotional feelings. We have sex sometimes, and that’s all it will ever be. Do I like being friends with my partners? Occasionally. Am I upset that she and I are not exactly friends anymore? A little bit. But this isn’t like breaking up with a boyfriend or girlfriend, okay? I’m fine, and so is she.”

Patty lifts her hands defensively. “I apologize. That’s not something I considered.”

Abby relents immediately. “I know. It’s just, you come from a background where romance lays the groundwork for sex. Separating the two isn’t the easiest, if that’s what you expect.”

“I’ve had my share of one-night stands,” Patty replies.

“But at the end of the day, you still want someone--or several someones--with whom you can share a romantic relationship, right? That’s what you’re seeking?”

“Well, yeah. I get you, though. I’ll cut that shit out.”

“Thank you.”

Holtz slow claps, marking the conclusion of their moment. She wipes imaginary tears from her cheeks and congratulates them on completing their team-building exercise. Corporate is going to be so pleased with their results. Abby pushes her away gently and rolls her eyes. 

“I take it you’ll stop with the jokes and questions and nudges in the wrong direction, too?”

Holtz salutes. “We’re all about boundaries here at Jillian Holtzmann Incorporated.”

“So, all that’s really left is deciding what we do with Smithe now that we’ve caught her. Do we put her in a case and try to get answers?” Erin stares at the unit containing their malevolent enemy. She doesn’t personally think there’s any point in encasing Smithe, as Smithe would likely rather spite them than help them. Then again, there might be something to be gained if they promised to let Smithe see her son.

“I say we just log her containment unit away and never think about her again.” Holtz kicks the table, rocking the unit. “Unless you want me to go ghost and beat the crud out of her.”

“That won’t be necessary. All in favor of Holtz’s idea?”

They all put their hands in the air.


	82. Chapter 82

Holtz sits in front of the containment units, all of which have been properly logged and filed away, and stares at the numbers written in silver marker on the fronts. She remembers many of them, but some are from before her time. The Ghostbusters have been busy since their inception, and the results of all their hard work are stored away in tiny units that don’t look all that impressive. She wonders who conceived the traps and containment units--if the inventor were the same person who came up with the proton packs, their work left much to be desired.

This uncertainty is why she camps out in the lab, her eyes attracted to the containment unit marked 1635 more often than not. She wants to trust that these units will hold every ghost indefinitely, but she’s not certain that will be the case. When she first got her hands on a proton pack, she spent a few weekends upgrading the design and making them actually effective--they didn’t even use freakin’ Faraday cages. But she’d never thought to examine the units.

She runs a hand through her hair and grimaces. She’s probably worrying for nothing. After all, they’ve been busting ghosts for awhile now, and not a one has broken free from its prison. She’s just aware of how much damage Mother Smithe could get into should she escape and have access to their premises, even without a belt to help her materialize.

Unable to sit still any longer, Holtz nabs an unused container and examines the body for structural flaws. She doubts she’ll find any. If there are problems, they will likely be inside the unit, hidden deep within the circuit boards and wiring. She pries the paneling off and sets about investigating the unit until she’s all but convinced that within the end of the year, they’ll be suffering through a mass resurgence of ghosts, thanks to the decaying innards of the traps in their current iteration.

She pushes the disassembled unit aside and invades Patty’s space. Despite Patty not being a likely creator of the units, she bets the taller woman has access to the blueprints. She’ll make a fresh set on her own if she has to, but it’s so much easier to build off an existing design than to start from nothing--and she wants to get things fixed before a real problem erupts in the firehouse.

0-0-0

“Hello.” Erin dips her head respectfully in the mayor’s direction, even though he barely deigns to notice her entrance. She’s used to this sort of treatment, and she thinks it’s a result of being a position of public power. She supposes she’d luxuriate in the circumstances, too, if people were expected to treat her with the utmost respect.

Jenn directs her to a chair. “Thank you for coming.”

“Didn’t really think I had a choice,” Erin replies with a short, nervous laugh. “I thought it was a requirement--”

“It is. But we appreciate your acquiescence.”

“Oh.”

“He’ll be with us in just a moment.” Jenn sits beside her and smiles broadly. “We hear you’ve successfully captured the ghost who’s been causing the city-wide problems.”

“Well, yes. We did. But the problems aren’t over, yet.”

Jenn cocks her head, eyes darting to the mayor. “What do you mean?”

“According to her records, she left devices all over the city. We’ll have to collect all of them before they activate, or catch the ghosts they provoke.”

“Oh, is that all?”

Erin hesitates. “We were hoping to talk to you about something--”

“Of course, we’ll look into whatever you’d like to request. Although with the city budget like it’s been, I’m not sure what we’ll be able to do about additional funding.” Jenn speaks a little louder than is necessary. “You know what it’s like--around the holidays, people would rather see the budget spent on decorations and parades.”

“Rather than fighting and containing ghosts.”

“Right.”

Erin thinks this is odd, but she gets the idea that Jenn is tactfully trying to steer her away from unacceptable topics of conversation. “Makes sense to me,” she says slowly.

“I knew you’d see it that way.” Jenn waves the mayor over. “This should be brief. Just tell him about your latest capture--that’s what’s pertinent.”

Erin does so, and she stops herself from flinching back when the mayor grabs her hand, squeezes tight, and shakes with too much enthusiasm. His congratulations would have validated her work in the past, but now, she understands more that he only does what will look good for his image. If he can’t support them all the time, then she’s not really interested in his support some of the time. Of course, she won’t say this to his face because they definitely need his funding.

“Anything else you crazy kids need?”

She resents being called crazy, even in such an offhand way, but she bites back on her temper. “Mrs. Smithe’s research area was covered in notations and locations. We’d appreciate funding and access to materials that will help us understand what she was up to.”

“I see.” He sobers and glances at Jenn. “I’m not sure what we’ll have on hand that will help with that little problem. She had nothing to do with us, you know.”

“I know,” Erin states evenly, although she’s beginning to strongly suspect otherwise.

“There might be something.” He gestures for Jenn to do something; his hands flap and his brows raise, but Jenn doesn’t move. Erin isn’t sure what the gesticulating is supposed to communicate, and apparently neither is Jenn. “Go see what we have.”

“Right.” Jenn hurries away, leaving Erin with the mayor for an extremely awkward two minutes. When she returns, she hands Erin a single paper and shrugs. “We have this information about Quentin’s activities, but we don’t know anything about his mother.”

“I could send you--”

“No need,” the mayor interrupts. “We trust you gals will be able to figure this out on your own. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a meeting across town that I really have to get to. Jenn, see her out?”

Erin utilizes this opportunity to ask very quietly if everything is okay. Jenn’s head shake is barely perceptible, and Erin recognizes that Jenn isn’t comfortable discussing anything in this environment. Trying to make everything appear normal, she grins at Jenn and offers, “We’re having a beer later, if you want to stop by.” Gambling to make this seem like a social visit rather than any sort of business, she adds, “Abby’d love to see you.”

Jenn doesn’t respond at first. Thankfully, she seems to pick up on the message and nods. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there around seven.”


	83. Chapter 83

At seven, Jenn arrives, and Holtz slaps her a vigorous high five as soon as she enters. Jenn shakes her hand out, while Holtz bounds to Erin’s work space. She babbles about her upgraded design and its requirements but halts when Erin presses a finger to her lips. The time for unmitigated chattering has apparently ended, and Holtz resigns herself to durations of silence with short spurts of witty banter.

Like Holtz, Patty greets their guest pleasantly. She guides Jenn to a seat and asks how things are going down at the mayor’s digs. Jenn’s response is reserved but polite, and Erin immediately picks up on the tension suddenly pervading their space. Abby is upstairs baking madly, and she hurries to tell Jenn as much. Jenn visibly relaxes.

“I’m not avoiding her--”

“We know,” Holtz interrupts. “You’re both just doing different things in different places for no reason.”

She glowers. “I wouldn’t put it that way. If she’d like to come down and join our conversation, she’s more than welcome to.”

“She won’t.” Patty shrugs and laughs. “I used to think Holtz was childish, but I have since learned that there are depths below Holtzmann.”

“The spectrum is actually from Peter Pan to Patty’s one sister friend doesn’t think anything is funny. I’m sorta in the middle.”

“Alicia thinks plenty is funny--she just doesn’t appreciate it when you--”

“Enough.” Erin lifts her hand, cutting off what would likely be an excruciatingly long argument about a topic that didn’t matter at the moment. “Can we stay on topic?”

“Of course.” Jenn seems relieved to swerve away from any mention of Abby or her own behavior. “You wanted to talk about something specific?”

“Any news on what the mayor’s energy plan is about? I got the distinct feeling that the Smithe family was involved somehow.”

Jenn frowns and nods. “I think so, too. But the mayor has kept me pretty far away from the details, ever since I started--well, since--”

“We all know what you’re alluding to,” Abby announces as she descends the stairs with a plate of cookies in hand. “Jenn, nice to see you.”

“Abby.”

Abby hesitates at the base of the stairs but walks over a moment later like there’s nothing wrong. She offers Jenn the plate of cookies with a very quietly muttered, “Sorry.”

“Gadzooks!” Holtz stares at her. “Did you really say the s-word?”

“Shut up, Holtzmann.”

Erin swats Holtz. “Don’t make this worse for her than it already is.”

“It’s not bad,” Abby snaps. “I’m being an adult, okay? You three have been hounding me for days--”

“Weeks, actually,” Patty puts in with a grin.

“So yeah, there you go. I’m sorry.”

Jenn accepts a cookie, nibbles on the edge, and sighs. “I apologize as well. We should probably have this conversation more privately later, if you don’t mind.”

Abby clears her throat and redirects her attention. “So, what have we learned?”

“Not much.” Erin grimaces. “The mayor is keeping this all pretty tightly under wraps. I’m starting to get concerned that we’re not going to get much information out of this. And without a lead, I’m not sure what’ll happen next, if anything does at all.”

“I… I could sneak you guys into town hall some night, after closing. The security guards owe me some favors, and I could get the cameras turned off for half an hour maybe.”

“You’d risk your job?” Erin gapes, unaware that Jenn would care so much for their cause.

“I love this city. If I get fired protecting it, then that’s a consequence I’m willing to accept. The mayor may have forgotten his duty to the people, but I haven’t.” Jenn stands straighter and dusts the wrinkles from her slacks.

“I knew I liked you.” Patty slings an arm around her shoulder.

0-0-0

Later that night, when Jenn and Abby have disappeared to have their discussion and Patty has gone home, Holtz and Erin linger at the firehouse. Holtz wants to get work done on her new containment units, but she’s quickly and easily distracted by Erin, who lounges at her desk and nibbles on the back of a pen. She makes up a lame excuse about something being on fire in the kitchen to lure Erin upstairs and then immediately pins Erin to the couch.

“Holtzmann, what are you doing?”

“I don’t know, yet,” Holtz admits, nuzzling her nose against Erin’s neck. “But would you like to find out with me?”

“We’re at work.” Erin’s voice is a frantic whisper, but Holtz notes there is no denial, at least not so far.

“Yes, we are. Would you like me to stop?”

Erin sputters, so Holtz puts a hand on her breast. Finding her voice, Erin gasps out, “No, don’t stop.”

Holtz likes the idea of having sex at the firehouse--the possibility that Patty might return for a forgotten book thrills her, just as the thought of Abby returning after her emotionally draining conversation with Jenn sends a shot of arousal through her. She isn’t sure Erin is as keen on the improbable events occurring, but there’s apparently something sexy about the situation because Erin is wet and ready for her when her fingers slide between Erin’s thighs.

“Erin?” she murmurs as she liberally coats her fingers before sliding two inside.

“Y-yes?”

“I love you.”

Erin clings to her shoulders, breathing hard against her collarbone as she strokes and thrusts. “I love you, too.”

“I just needed you to know.” Holtz says nothing more until Erin’s teeth sink into her shoulder in a vain attempt to bite back a scream. Had she more feeling in her skin, she might have winced. There were benefits to being a ghost. She holds Erin steady while the climax rocks Erin’s slim frame and then pushes hair from Erin’s features to get a good look into Erin’s eyes. “I don’t want to exist on any plane without you.”

Erin closes her eyes and rests her forehead on Holtz’s. “Feeling a little emotional?”

“What can I say?” A teasing tone enters Holtzmann’s voice as her defense mechanism slides into place. She grins wryly and creates a bit of distance between them. “Seeing Abby and Jenn all sappy and sweet earlier really got to me.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make light of the moment. Neither of us is exactly an expert on this, are we?”

“We’ll figure it out together.”

“Did something set this off, though? Are you concerned about something?”

“No,” Holtz replies honestly. “Sometimes I just need you to know. Is that okay?”

Erin kisses her, and for a few moments, the world slows down around them. “That’s more than okay.”


	84. Chapter 84

Erin sputters with helpless laughter at what Holtz has deigned to wear on the evening of their break-in. The blonde wears freshly shined black boots, paint-splattered overalls, and a black turtleneck. There is some sort of dark makeup smeared on her cheeks, and she looks like an odd combination of a burglar, a house painter, and a football player. In contrast, Erin is wearing her usual garb, comprised of jeans and an MIT hoodie she had been given when the school was courting her for a teaching position. In the end, Columbia had offered her a better deal, but she hadn’t let go of the hoodie.

“We’re not supposed to draw attention to ourselves,” she says to Holtz, biting back a fresh round of laughter.

“I’ll blend right in, I assure you.”

“Holtz, that’s not really--you look like--I…”

“That’s exactly the effect I like to have on women.” Holtz winks. “But seriously. It’ll be fine. I bet you anything that Patty and Abby will be dressed just like this.”

Abby and Patty are not.

They stare at Holtz’s outfit with a mixture of mirth and confusion. Patty breaks the silence first, with a hesitant: “Holtz, you realize we’re not trying to look like we’re about the break and enter, right?”

Holtz immediately starts to disrobe, which makes everyone in the room lunge forward and yell ‘No’ at her. “If you’re so upset about it, then let me change.”

“Into what?” As far as Erin knows, there is nothing else to wear, as they’re in the front part of the firehouse waiting for a text from Jenn.

“I could go ghost,” Holtz settles on. “I could do a lot more than you guys that way. Looking into locked safes. Fighting security guards.”

“I don’t think…” Erin finally spots the glint in Holtz’s eyes and sighs. “Very funny, Holtzmann.”

Holtzmann throws her a two-fingered salute and turns her attention to Abby. “Any text, yet?”

“Yeah. Apparently, the mayor is working late tonight. We might as well get comfortable because it might be awhile.”

“Who’s up for a Holtzmann Curated Collection of Quality Content found on the Youtube?”

Patty rolls her eyes but shrugs. “There are worse ways to waste time…”

0-0-0

At just after midnight, they pile into the Ecto-1 and drive across town to town hall--without the siren blaring or the lights flaring. They pull into a public parking lot a block away, make the trek to the front of the building, and then duck inside when Jenn opens a door and waves madly for them to enter. When the door shuts, Jenn hands Abby a map and points out where the security cameras will be disabled and where the important information is likely located.

“If you run into a problem, text me. Remember, you’ve got half an hour.” She looks specifically at Holtz. “I see someone got into the spirit and dressed for the occasion.”

Holtzmann grins. “Any chance we’ll have time to find the files on aliens, too?”

Abby rolls her eyes and slaps a hand over Holtz’s mouth. They set off into the labyrinthian building as quickly as possible, and it’s all they can do to keep Holtz quiet. Holtz remarks that they have free reign for thirty minutes, so she shouldn’t need to bite her tongue or modulate her volume, but Erin reminds her that not everyone in the building is in on their plan. This small dose of reality is enough to silence Holtz entirely, although a pout remains in place.

They split up into pairs of two--Abby and Erin take the upper levels, while Patty and Holtz man the lower. Patty explains that she doesn’t want Erin and Holtz messing around, especially during the time crunch, and not even their complaints to the contrary will change her mind or convince her to reconsider.

Abby groans as the second room they check is full of junk. “Nothing at all in the neighborhood of useful. We don’t have time for this.”

Erin sets a file folder down, grimacing. “Maybe they’re having more luck downstairs.”

“I hope so, or we just got Jenn into a lot of trouble for pretty much no reason.”

“We still have other areas to search.”

“Hm.”

“You’re pretty worried about Jenn--”

“Oh my God,” Abby interrupts. “I’m not friends with her, and you guys heckle me. Then, I make things right, and I try to be considerate toward her, and you guys heckle me. What on Earth do you want from me?”

Erin recoils from Abby’s harsh tone, even as she hears the truth in the diatribe. She murmurs, “I just miss talking to you. About whatever it is that matters to us. I thought she mattered to you. I’m sorry I didn’t realize how it sounded. It wasn’t my intent to put you in that position.”

“It’s fine.” Abby rubs the back of her neck as they continue on to their next location. “I guess it’s just a sensitive subject. I’ve been a little snippy about it with everyone.”

“You have a right to be. Looking back, it does seem a lot like nagging you and trying to get you to say more than you’re comfortable with. I really am sorry.”

“Don’t keep apologizing. Seriously.”

Erin hangs her head under the guise of searching through a box on a table. There’s nothing of interest inside, but she takes longer than she needs just to hide her face. “What can I do better? What would you like to talk about that I can ask you about?”

“That headset I’ve been working on for a few years now. I’m getting close to functionality.”

“The one built on top of the motorcycle helmet?”

“I needed a structural base,” Abby replies, frowning at the perceived slight to her invention.

“I was just clarifying which one.” Erin lifts her hands to show her lack of ill intent.

“Yeah. That one. I’ve expanded the range to several decibels outside what humans are capable of hearing.”

“That could be potentially really useful in a lot of ways,” Erin muses. “If you could integrate the technology into, say, a construction worker’s hard hat, you could save their hearing by dampening the noise from heavy machinery into something their ears can manage.”

“That’s just one of the uses I’ve been considering.”

The conversation rambles forward, and Erin feels better. She’s missed this connection with her best friend, and she dislikes feeling like she’s done something wrong. For once in her life, all her relationships seem to be stable and healthy--and she wonders just when something is going to go horribly and terribly wrong.


	85. Chapter 85

Holtz wishes there was a light within the box when she finds what they’re looking for. She settles for singing what she supposes a heavenly chorus might sound like as she lifts the treasured documents from their home and presents them, one knee bent, to Patty. For her part, Patty looks bemused. She doesn’t even scold Holtz for making noise; instead, she shoots a text to Abby and proclaims their victory.

From within the box, she fishes out several other folders, which she sorts through. By the time Abby and Erin arrive, they have a sizable pile to read quickly, photograph if necessary, or steal. Erin voices her concerns about the last option, nervously eyeing the hallway in case security has suddenly remembered to do their job. They’re doing all sorts of stuff that makes her uncomfortable, so she has to draw the line somewhere.

“This is good stuff,” Patty mutters, flipping pages and reading quickly. Erin is jealous of her reading speed, which would have made her life so much easier as a graduate student. The hours she spent slogging away over gigantic tomes--she shakes her head, banishing the tedious memories.

“Anything useful?”

“He’s got his people building something. Turns out that Mary Smithe, before she died, was working on a connection to the spiritual plane, but all her research was kept real hush-hush.” Patty hands a few diagrams to Abby, who eagerly snaps a few pictures with her cell phone. “After she died, our boy Quentin stepped up to take over the project. He wasn’t as bright as mommy dearest, so progress was slow.”

“Until he stole my frickin’ belt and brought the real brains of the operation back.”

“So, this has been going on for a long time,” Erin realizes.

“At least three years.” Patty grabs another document. “No wonder the mayor was already monitoring the situation when we hit the scene.”

Erin rubs her forehead and shakes her head. “This is a little baffling. After he saw what happened with Rowan’s portal, you’d think he would rethink building such a direct connection to the other plane.”

“An alternate form of power is very lucrative. If I were a sleazy politician, I’d want my hands all over that, no matter the danger.” Holtz rubs her thumb against her fingertips in the universal gesture for money. “Whoever cracks this open could potentially be very rich.”

“Yeah, and could potentially bone us all.” Patty shakes her head. “I don’t understand all this science mumbo-jumbo, but I damn well remember the shit Rowan put this city through.”

“Maybe it could be done safely?” Erin offers lamely.

“How about we don’t find out?” Abby finishes taking pictures and checks the time. “We gotta get out of here. We good?”

Holtz doesn’t respond at first, her nose buried deep in something she’s found in the corner. Erin touches her elbow and attracts her attention. “Hm?”

“We have to go.”

“Oh, of course.” Holtz eases the folder back into an unmarked box. She casts a wistful glance over her shoulder as they leave but refuses to remark on what she discovered. “Not related to the Smithes or the power thing,” is all she’s willing to explain. “Not important.”

They meet up with Jenn at the entrance once more, and she looks relieved that they both found what they needed and didn’t run into any trouble. Erin supposes that this must have been a nerve-wracking exercise for the politically minded woman. She makes sure to say thank you at least four times before they leave for the evening.

In the Ecto-1, they chatter aimlessly about the information they uncovered and what to do next. While there’s plenty to say about what they’ve learned, none of them have a good idea of what should come next. There is, of course, the task of catching the ghosts that Mary Smithe supercharged, but that’s very basic. When it comes to handling the mayor’s energy schemes, they’ll need a little more finesse and a little more direction. Abby, who doesn’t mind being the boss, decides that Holtz will examine the plans and assess the potential danger to the city. Maybe if they create a detailed and extensive report of Why Pursuing This Idea Is Not So Good, the mayor will stand down on his own. Problem solved. Holtz doubts the solution will be that easy.

0-0-0

Holtz pores over an enlarged print out of the pictures Abby took. The details aren’t exactly clear, but she’s got a fairly good idea what it all means. The science is good, but the designs leave a lot to be desire. She now understands why someone as smart as Mary Smithe didn’t update the Life Belt--she apparently had a vastly different approach to the conceptual work behind combining technology and the afterlife. However, the plans were farther along than she would like. Thankfully, the Asshole is securely locked away in one of their containment units--soon to be super containment units of ultimate holding.

She studies the plans and wonders who the mayor will call on to finish things up. For a moment, she wants to volunteer her services. She’s not interested in the money, of course, but if there’s a safe way to accomplish this project, she’s the one who’ll be able to figure it out. The challenge fascinates her.

0-0-0

Although she’s exhausted, Erin forces herself to stay awake a little bit longer. Holtz’s belt is functioning again, so she ought to be tired, too, but as Holtz says over and over again, she’ll sleep when she’s dead. She punctuates this statement with a sharp bark of a laugh and a wink, but she still won’t settle down for the evening.

Erin watches her from a distance as she scribbles across a number of different sheets of paper. The sight makes her smile until a yawn destroys all the fondness in her expression. She hides her mouth behind her hand and calls, “C’mon, Holtz. Your work will still be there in the morning.”

Holtz finally looks up and meets her gaze. “Oh, you look tired.” The deadpan stare that Erin delivers unto her causes her to laugh and stagger to her feet. “Fine, I guess I could go to bed, too.”

“I’ll sleep better that way,” Erin confides as she escorts Holtz to the bedroom.

They dress in their pajamas and then crawl under the covers. Holtz holds her close, and Erin relaxes almost completely. She turns her head before she falls asleep and asks Holtz what was in that other folder she read at town hall.

Holtz kisses her cheek and grins. “Aliens.”


	86. Chapter 86

The first time Holtz disappears for a few hours, Erin doesn’t think much of the sudden quiet left in her wake. The eighth time, however, she’s a little more fixated. At first, she prized the few moments when nothing was exploding and music wasn’t blasting through firehouse because she could work in peace and quiet. Soon, however, she realizes that she no longer has a legitimate excuse as to why the final draft of her article isn’t complete because it’s quiet and she can focus--and oh, golly, why isn’t the paper just writing itself?

She bothers Abby for a few minutes, and then Patty for a few minutes more, before finally forcing herself back to her desk to stare at her Word document and pray for the edits she needs to somehow materialize in front of her without her expending any mental effort. She tweaks one sentence and sighs; she’s working way too hard. She probably just needs a little break, and then she’ll be able to sit down again and work hard.

With this in mind, she heads to the small kitchen upstairs and prepares a mug of hot chocolate. The warm, smooth taste causes her to close her eyes and savor the experience. That she’s wasting half an hour on a single mug of hot chocolate is a problem for future-Erin. Now-Erin just wants to enjoy the little things. The only thing that would make this perfect, she realizes, is Holtz. But Holtz had left that morning with a promise to check in later that day, as well as a fervent vow that she wasn’t going to get into trouble, scout’s honor.

Erin finishes her drink and digs her phone out. There’s a short text from Holtzmann that proclaims her to be dead, but not the wrong kind of dead, with an emoji of a happy ghost.

She replies with a smiley face and a thumb’s up. When no response appears within five minutes, she puts her phone away and forces herself back to her desk. This work she’s doing is important, she reminds herself. Although the material doesn’t have immediate applicability, she still wants other academics to begin thinking about spectral issues as a item for genuine scientific discourse.

Which is why she hesitates on finishing her writing. She’s waylaid by thoughts that her peers will once again reject her, that she’s put in so much effort and nobody will take her seriously. Her doubts cloud her willingness to call the article finished and submit it for publication. According to Abby’s comments, she really doesn’t have much to fix; she almost wishes Abby had torn into the document and found a million errors or weak areas.

Antsy once more, she stands and paces from one end of the room to the other. This continues until Patty glares at her and suggests she take a walk outside, where she won’t distract people trying to work.

0-0-0

While Erin exits the firehouse to enjoy the glorious weather and avoid her responsibilities, Holtz sits in a lab space on the other side of town. The machine she currently has her hands jammed inside is monstrous in size, and the circuitry is as complicated as she’s ever seen, which excites her. Although she knows she has other responsibilities, she wishes she could just stay here for extended periods of time and just live inside her work. The only reason she doesn’t is she can just picture Erin’s upset expression if she stopped coming home.

In the past, she lost herself in engineering. She’d start a project, and then she wouldn’t leave her work space for weeks on end. She had everything she needed delivered, from food to toilet paper, and the only human contact she experienced was with the men and women who appeared on her doorstep with boxes and bags. At the time, she hadn’t minded the self-inflicted isolation. She can no longer imagine living such a life. As much as she wants to be productive, she has ties to the real world that she doesn’t even want to ignore or neglect.

So, as the day winds down, she packs up her tools, locks the door behind herself, and trots to the subway that will take her home.

0-0-0

Abby catches her on her way out the next day and pulls her aside. “Care to let me know where you keep disappearing to?”

“Oh, you know. There’s so much for a ghost like myself to see and do in this wonderful city.”

“Holtzmann, I was looking at the prints of those pictures I took. I know what your scribbles mean.”

“Purely theoretical,” Holtz replies with a grin.

“I thought we agreed that pursuing a machine like that could have unforeseen complications and consequences.”

This gives Holtz pause but only for a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. Nobody should pursue what the mayor was going after.”

She doesn’t add the addendum that her plans are slightly different from the mayor’s, so she’s not actually contradicting herself or lying. When Abby lets her go, she hurries to her destination with a fierce blush coloring her cheeks. She doesn’t mind stretching the truth to accomplish her goals, but she’s also never had such good friends who rely on her. Doing this to Abby feels wrong, even though no falsehood has been spread.

When she enters her lab, she sits before her machine and doesn’t start working immediately. Instead, she rubs her forehead and deliberates about what she ought to do. The plans at town hall had told her one primary thing: the mayor is close to achieving his goal. She doesn’t trust him to do things properly--to test out the ramifications and make an educated decision regarding the safety of sapping energy from the spirit plane. He’ll likely crack through, drain it all, and parade around like he’s the best thing to happen to power since Nikola Tesla.

She isn’t sure how much energy is available, nor how much can safely be siphoned to provide power to this plane, but she sure as Hell doesn’t want Mayor Bradley in charge of finding out.

The thought urges her back into motion. She has no idea who he’s brought in to complete the project, and depending on that factor, he could be much closer than she thinks to finishing the design and wreaking havoc. No matter what, she has to master the technology, run her tests, and get her results to the public before he can make any sort of announcement spun to his own slant. If her friends are upset with her, she’ll deal with the ramifications later.


	87. Chapter 87

Once the dang machine is built, Holtz sits back and considers if she wants to turn it on. She knows that she’s being as careful as possible and that if she doesn’t do this, it’s only a matter of time until the mayor does it first. Still, she’s apprehensive about what she’s created, and the ramifications are expansive. She thinks a moment more before calling the firehouse and telling Kevin that there’s a ghost in her laboratory.

She means herself, of course, but he doesn’t understand. Before she can correct him and explain her joke, he’s hung up, and her subsequent calls ring and ring and ring. Twenty minutes later, Abby, Patty, and Erin pull up outside in the Ecto-1, and Holtz reluctantly meets them at the curb. She tells them that she was just trying to crack a joke with Kevin, and they immediately relax. Holtz supposes that this worked just as well as simply asking them to come.

“Welcome,” she proclaims with an extravagant bow, “to Holtz’s House of Horrors.”

The building behind her is rather dull and not at all suggestive of its name. Holtz has thought about spicing it up, but there’s little point. The building once belonged to her mentor, who was more averse to interacting with people than she is, and purposely looks unobtrusive to hide the wonders within. She’s got some expensive junk inside, so a dull exterior works well to dissuade any potential break-ins. 

“What is this?” Erin stares up the building and is a little uneasy about how few windows there are. “I mean, really, it’s not a haunted house, right?”

“No. It’s my lab.”

“I thought you worked from home before you died?” Patty settles her hands on her hips and cocks an eyebrow.

“I used to work here with my mentor, but when she died, I couldn’t bring myself to come here anymore. She willed the place to me, and I willed it to my mom, so it’s been empty a while, but I figured it was the best place to dig into my new research.”

Holtz has never asked if anyone else died in the explosion she caused because she’s not sure she can deal with the emotional blow back of the response--she’s still trying to cope with her PTSD, and even with therapy, it’s a rough ordeal. Adding on another trauma will only make things worse. Despite not knowing, she gets the feeling that she ruined a number of lives beyond her own. If she’d just worked here, in the space that was allocated for such dangerous experiments--

“Holtz?”

She blinks and looks at Erin, who meets her gaze with a furrowed brow. “What’s shakin'?”

“Are we going inside? Or why did you call us down here?”

She snaps back to the present. “Oh, right. So, we’ll go inside in just a second. First, we gotta talk, and you gotta promise not to flip your shit.”

Abby glares at her. “Holtzmann, you promised--”

“I promised that I wasn’t working on his designs.”

“I can’t believe you.”

“I only asked you for one thing,” Holtz says with a sigh. “Don’t flip your shit.”

“I’ll flip my shit whenever I want,” Abby retorts. “And probably Erin’s shit, too, in case she doesn’t react strongly enough.”

“Don’t touch my shit,” Patty warns.

“I know you can handle your shit.”

Holtz lifts her hands. “Guys. Look, yes, I did build a machine to siphon energy from the other plane, which I know we all thought was a bad idea, but I had a good reason.”

Erin steps back. “Holtzmann…”

“Just listen to me!” Holtz realizes in that moment how much she hates people leaving her, be the exit through death or disregard. If her friends walk away, she’ll be crushed. She’ll probably have saved the city, but she’ll be alone. 

Thankfully, Erin at least seems willing to hear her out; she stops and regards Holtz curiously. “Why would you do this?”

“Because the mayor is going to finish his project sooner or later, and I couldn’t just sit back and let him traipse through science he doesn’t understand for monetary gain. So, I decided to get a machine built first, so we can control the testing process.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Abby relents. Patty nods beside her.

“Just come in and see it. I haven’t turned it on because I wanted your guys’s input.” Holtz waves for them to follow her inside. “I need Erin to look over the design, and Abby to check the build before we do anything.”

“What about me?”

Holtz grins at Patty. “You’ve got the best moral compass out of every person I’ve ever met. If anyone is suitable to make a decision about whether we turn it on or destroy it, you’re them. You get final call on what we do at the end of the afternoon, no questions asked. I just ask that you don’t form your judgment until we’ve had a chance to explain everything.”

“Yeah, okay.”

As soon as they all step into the main work space, Holtz dances up to her machine and pretends to be Vanna White. She shows off her creation with flare and a wide, toothy smile. While Patty pauses in the doorway in awe, Erin diverts to a work table covered in paper, and Abby approaches the machine, where she lays her hands on the metal surface.

“This is intense, Holtz.”

“I know. I didn’t even dig through dumpsters for the materials. They were mostly all here already from before.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“I…” Holtz stops and reconsiders her enthusiastic assent. She needs to be honest with her friends, and she doesn’t want to stretch the truth anymore. “I am sure that it’s better us than the mayor. But I really don’t have a handle on whether we should.”

“Thank you for trusting us.” Abby pats her back.

The small contact sends relief cascading through Holtz. “Yeah, of course. Sorry it wasn’t sooner--I just thought you’d try to stop me.”

“Probably. But you’re right. If the mayor is going to do this, then we ought to know what we’re facing. This will at least give us a controlled environment.”

“Exactly!”

“Holtz?” Erin calls. She’s bent over the table, her hands flying this way and that as she digs through papers. “Where are your calculations for the spectral RF feedback parameters?”

“In my head?”

“Holtz.”

“Be right there.” Holtz looks at Abby for a moment longer. When she started contacting Erin, she never expected to find real friends as well, but she can’t imagine her life without them. “Thanks for not flipping both your shit and Erin’s.”


	88. Chapter 88

Hours tick by as Holtz explains the intricacies of her project to Patty. Once she finishes reviewing the designs, Erin joins her and asks a series of questions to verify that Holtz has well and truly thought through everything. The final piece falls into place when Abby completes her review, which includes a strict overview of the blueprints and a hands-on examination of the machine. Abby weighs in on her concerns, and then the three scientists fall silent while Patty deliberates.

“Well, I don’t get the full science behind it, but I really do think you’re right. Mayor Bradley’s not gonna think twice before doing this. Might as well be us first. But we gotta be careful. No charging the ley lines. No creating a vortex. And especially no breaking the barriers. We clear?”

“Very. Since the day is done, I suggest we meet back here tomorrow morning and get to work.”

“Shouldn’t someone watch out for Kevin at HQ? What if we’re needed?”

Holtz considers this and replies, “Maybe we split this two and two. Tomorrow, me and Erin will be here. Day after that, either you or Abby can join me instead. Sound good?”

Patty nods. Holtz is glad they’re all on the same page. Together, they can accomplish a whole lot more than by themselves.

0-0-0

“Do you know what today is?” asks Holtz as she prances next to Erin. “Do you?”

“Tuesday?”

“It’s the day my future cat is being released from quarantine.”

Erin sighs; she’d hoped Holtz would have forgotten about the cat whose owner had gotten possessed in the time during which the cat had been taken in by the local shelter for temperament testing post-trauma and to ensure that contact with a malevolent spirit hadn’t caused any health concerns.

“Abby’s allergic to cats.”

“Abby doesn’t live in our apartment.”

“Technically, neither do you.”

“Harhar,” Holtz replies. “Make fun of the ghost for being dead.”

“I can do that.”

“But seriously. Please. I promised him that I’d come back. Don’t make me a promise-breaker, Erin. Don’t you put that on me.”

Erin doesn’t like feeling like the bad guy. She grimaces and offers, “We can go down to the shelter and take a look, okay?”

This is more than enough for Holtz, who is all but certain that Erin will fall in love with the cat at first petting. Erin, on the other hand, is all but certain that she’s never really liked cats and she’s not going to get a cat.

0-0-0

“So, Mr. Cookie, what do you think of your new digs?” Holtz gestures to Erin’s apartment, which Cookie seems averse to exploring. His ears are flat to his head, and he crouches low to the ground. “I know this is probably scary, but I promised you I’d come back for you, and I’m going to make sure your life is awesome, okay?”

“He doesn’t understand what you’re saying.” Erin sets a bag full of pet supplies on the counter in the kitchen and wonders how she spent so much money on one tiny animal. Holtz was insistent, however, that the little cat get everything his cat heart might desire. They got the basics, like a litter box and bowl, to the more elaborate and ridiculous multi-level cat tree that will likely overtake the living room.

Holtz pulls up behind her and kisses the back of her neck. “Thank you for letting me have him.”

“You’re in charge of taking care of him,” Erin warns. “I have no interest in cleaning his cat box.”

“Oh, totally.”

“And he’s not allowed in the bedroom when we have sex.”

“It’s not like he’ll know what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to be watched.”

Holtz bites back her laughter. “I think we can manage that. Any other ground rules?”

“You don’t get to pay more attention to him than me,” Erin teases.

Holtz flips her around and pins her to the counter. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that at all, Dr. Gilbert. You’re the only one I want right meow.”

“Oh God,” Erin mutters. “I gave you yet another source of puns.”

“What a catastrophe.”

“Stop--”

“Paws? I can’t.”

Erin shuts her up the only way she can think of: with a kiss.

0-0-0

The machine rumbles to life, and the meter attached to its side flares immediately bright green. This is a good sign, Holtz knows as she frantically jots down notes. Green means they’re good to go. If it turns yellow, she’ll shut everything down temporarily--and red means to evacuate immediately before imminent destruction. She hopes it doesn’t come to that.

“So, it’s on.” Abby watches sparks of electricity race along the clear tubing atop the machine. It’s a cylindrical creation, with a squared base, and its rounded sides are covered in gauges, access panels, and inputs. “What next?”

“Erin and I tested if it could safely run for a few hours the other day. Then me and Patty tested taking the smallest unit of energy we could manage. What I’d like to try today is taking that small unit and trying to power a device on this plane. We know my belt works, but its power source is a little different than this bad boy.”

“Shouldn’t we investigate the effects first?”

“Nah. If it can’t even power anything on this plane, then maybe the mayor won’t be able to use his either, y’know? We can just tell him that the whole thing is a bust and that he wasted three to four years of taxpayer funding on a dead end.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear that.”

“Right.”

Abby gestures for Holtz to continue. “I’m with you so far. What are we going to power?”

“Light bulb.” Holtz digs into a box and pulls out three light bulbs, which she attempts to juggle. Two crash to the floor and shatter when she doesn’t quite catch them correctly, and she offers the lone survivor to Abby. “There can be only one.”

“I assume you’ve thought about how to make this happen?”

“Yes.” 

When Abby doesn’t take the bulb, Holtz skips to a box set not too far from the machine. Wires run from one to the other. Holtz takes a deep breath and inserts the bulb into a waiting slot. Taking a deep breath, she snags the remote that controls the power and backs a safe distance away. Not bothering with ceremonial drum-rolling, she presses a big, red button.

The light flickers to life.

A moment later, the light is too bright to look at, and the bulb explodes in a shower of tiny particles. Both Holtz and Abby hit the deck, avoiding damage, and then crawl up a moment later, laughing and shaking.


	89. Chapter 89

“So… It works.” Abby stares at the machine after Holtz shuts it down. They’ll need to sweep up the shattered bulb eventually, but for now, neither seems to want to do anything other than marvel at what just happened. “It works too well.”

Holtz claps her hands and rocks back on her heels. “Hot damn, does it ever! That was great!”

“We could have been killed. Well, I could have been killed, and you could have been minorly inconvenienced.”

“I know! That was awesome!”

Abby rolls her eyes. “We need to either find a way to restrict the power flow, or we need to test this on a larger scale.”

“Larger scale, definitely.”

“Did you feel anything when it happened?”

Holtz pauses and evaluates the experience. “I didn’t. But it was only a moment. Why? Are you worried that I’ll poof out of existence if we use this source of power?”

“A little bit.” Abby touches her shoulder. “What if we discover that this energy is a feasible source of alternative energy that doesn’t harm the environment? But what if it detrimental effects your ability to manifest?”

“It… could…” Holtz admits slowly, turning to face her friend.

“If this machine saps energy from your plane, then it could really dampen spiritual activity. The city might get behind that idea because it could get rid of all the pesky, ghostly activity. Keeping you around matters to us, but asking the city to consider you up against the prospect of capping other hauntings?”

Holtzmann sits down on the ground with her knees drawn up. She stares at her machine silently while Abby cleans up the space. They don’t turn the machine back on that day.

0-0-0

Holtz lounges in bed, tired but unable to sleep. She knows her shifting about is keeping Erin awake as well, and she feels a bit bad about that. She ought to just get up and occupy herself elsewhere so at least one of them gets a full night’s rest. She’s about to do just that when Erin’s hand lands on her hip.

“What’s on your mind?”

“I should let you sleep…”

Erin pinches her softly. “C’mon.”

After a moment, Holtz whispers, “Abby and I figured out that the machine is like super powered.”

“What does that mean in terms of worrying you?”

“If we can harness that energy, it might prove to be a great source of power that doesn’t harm the atmosphere. Plus, there’s so much of it that it might be a lot cheaper.” Holtz stares up at the ceiling. “But Abby brought up a good point. If this is something that the city wants, can we really stand in the way?”

There’s something missing from Holtz’s explanation, Erin realizes. From what Holtz says, there’d be no reason to stand in the way--which means Holtz has omitted something essential. “Is there some side effect that we might not like?”

“We only had the machine on for a second, so I didn’t notice anything. But what if using this power source siphons the energy I use to manifest?” Holtz rolls onto her side and gazes at Erin. “What if using spiritual energy as power gets rid of ghosts?”

“Then we wouldn’t want to do that,” Erin answers promptly, thus illuminating Holtz’s earlier question. She sighs. “I see.”

“We need to talk about what we’ll do if that’s what happens. I know it’s a shitty, sore subject, but--”

“But better to talk now than have the chance ripped away later.” Erin scoots to the edge of the bed and flicks the light on.

“Now?”

“Now,” she replies, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “Otherwise, I doubt either of us will sleep at all.”

“Fair point.” Holtz sits up as well and fiddles with her fingers. “So, what’ll we do? Or, really, what’ll you do?”

“Do you think that you’d be able to stick around somehow? Like maybe not fully manifest at first? But still push the planchette around?” Erin flinches as Cookie jumps on the bed and curls up in her lap. Clearing her throat, she waits for the cat to realize his mistake and move, but Cookie merely purrs and closes his eyes.

“It’s not fair. I wanted the cat in the first place, but he loves you more.”

“They can tell when people don’t want them around, can’t they?”

“Nah, but they do have excellent taste in people.”

Erin tentatively strokes Cookie’s back before picking up the thread of their conversation again. “Do you think you’d still be here?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“If we’re able to use spirit energy to power our devices here, could we use our energy sources here to power your belt?”

“Well, the belt isn’t the problem. If you recall, we used to have to plug it into the wall. The problem would be my spirit. We just don’t know enough about what a spirit is or why one manifests to be able to accurately predict what will happen if the spiritual plane is sapped of power.”

Erin grimaces. “So, we have to think about a future where you might not be here.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t like that.”

“I know it’s probably wrong of me to ask, but I’d really like if you didn’t get too sad.” Holtz averts her gaze. “It would kill me if you were in pain.”

“Jill, I love you. If you were to leave for whatever reason, I’d be sad. I can’t promise I won’t be hurt.” Erin leans forward to grab Holtz’s hand. “But I can promise that I’ll keep going.”

Holtz trembles and nods. “I need to know that. I need to know you’ll live a full life, even if I’m not around.”

“You’re afraid I’d hurt myself?”

“It’s never crossed your mind? To be a ghost like me?”

Erin flushes. “I thought about it once, a long time ago, but there’s no guarantee. And if there’s no ghostly manifestation anymore, then I have no idea what’s waiting on the other side. There’s the chance I’d see you again, in some sort of Christian Heaven, but there’s also the chance that there’s nothing waiting for either of us.”

“I promise that if there’s anyway to find you again, I’ll try my best.”

Erin squeezes her hand. “We’ll just have to value every moment we have together and hope this is all just hypothetical.”

“Yeah." Holtz flops over.


	90. Chapter 90

After such a depressing discussion the night before, Holtz decides that she wants some levity in her life. She colludes with Patty, who Holtz is willing to admit knows more about the city in its current state than she does. According to Patty, there’s a site just forty minutes outside Manhattan where the night sky isn’t totally obliterated by city light pollution--to see the Milky Way, they’d have to drive a little over two hours to the closest site, so Holtz is willing to settle for visible stars. They decide to drag Kevin along as well because the poor boy proclaims that his favorite star is Chris Hemsworth, and they can’t let him continue to believe that stars are just celebrities.

Getting Erin to abandon her work is easier than Holtz anticipates. All she has to say is “Hey, Erin--” and the other woman drops everything to talk to her. She offers to come back later, but Erin practically begs her to speak. Willing to oblige, Holtz tells her about the outing. At the prospect of a night out as a group, Erin enthusiastically agrees and asks how soon they can leave.

“Well, it’s not dark out, yet. So, probably not for another few hours.”

Erin grimaces and nods, looking anywhere but at her computer. “Right. I should… uh… keep working, then. I guess.”

“Yeah, probably.” Holtz lingers a moment longer. “Not exactly thrilling you? The work, I mean.”

“It’s good. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

Erin sighs and gestures to her laptop. “What if they laugh at me?”

“Let them,” Holtz replies. She closes the laptop and cups Erin’s cheeks. “You’re brilliant and so is your work. This is cutting edge shit, my dear, and I think you’ll be surprised how many scientists there are out there that believe but were told over and over again that they shouldn’t.”

“I guess.”

“It’s like back in undergrad, when the professors would tell you at the beginning of class to ask even questions you think are stupid because odds are at least one other person in the room has the exact same question.”

After a moment, Erin slowly brightens. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“Will you read it for me? And then help me hit send?”

“Of course.” Holtz ruffles her hair affectionately. “Go get ‘em, kid.”

Erin bats her hand away. “You may have been born first, but you’re not older than me.”

“That’s arguable. But I’ll go bother someone else. Good luck.”

Holtz meanders toward Abby, who’s watching a video of their first experiment. When Holtz starts to speak, Abby lifts a finger to stop her until the video ends. She leans back and nods, which is Holtz’s cue to announce their grand plans for the evening.

“Getting out of the city sounds great to me,” Abby decides. “But bringing Kevin?”

“Yeah, I don’t know. We’re trying to help culture him.”

“He’s going to try and get romantic with me. You know that, right?”

“I hadn’t thought about that. You could invite Jenn--”

“And make an awkward situation weird?”

“That’s my favorite kind of situation.” Holtz grins until she realizes that Abby isn’t having fun with this line of chatter. “Sorry I brought it up. If you’d rather he didn’t come, I can totally forget to mention it to him.”

“I’m an adult, and he’s, at worst, an over-eager puppy dog. I’ll take care of myself.”

“Or, my friend, I could take care of you.” Holtz waggles her eyebrows.

“Don’t let Erin hear you say that. She’s so stressed lately that a comment like that might push her from mildly irritated scientist into full blown mad genius bent on world domination.”

“Maybe I should push her over the edge. That’s definitely a world I’d like to live in. I feel like Emperor Erin would be a good leader--fair but strict, with a good understanding of what the people really need.”

“I don’t have time to listen to your bedroom fantasies,” Abby retorts with a wry grin. “Get out of here.”

“I bet she’d make you an admiral. Admiral Abigail L. Yates, reporting for duty.”

Abby laughs and waves her away. “Shoo.”

Holtz tips an imaginary cowboy hat in her direction and rambles on over to her own work area, which is completely in shambles. Papers are strewn about, wires lay half-stripped, and something looks suspiciously like it’s been on fire recently. She shoves all that aside, not caring when some hits the floor, and grabs the nearest blank sheet of paper. The other side was probably important at one point or another, at least based on how exuberantly she dotted her exclamation points, but the back is unfilled, which is all that matters. Forgetting all about their plans later, Holtz sets to work.

0-0-0

Under the stars, all their problems seem nonexistent. Erin sits in Holtz’s laps with Holtz’s arms around her and stares up at the night sky. While they aren’t far enough out to get a truly magnificent very of the heavens, this is definitely a more breath-taking view than she’s used to. She has her friends around her and a cool evening breeze toying with her hair. As much as she loves busting ghosts and learning everything she can about the world, it’s this sort of moment that she enjoys the most.

She glances over at Abby and catches Abby’s eye. They smile at one another, and she truly appreciates where her life is right now. The years without Abby had been difficult because Abby is the only one who was ever there for her through everything without question. Holtz does the same for her now, but there’s no replacing Abby in her heart. Her gaze slides to Patty, and she can’t really remember what life was like before the taller woman came to their door with complaints of a subway ghost. Patty is strong and kind, and Erin knows she’d be lost in so many ways without Patty’s consistency.

Holtz hugs her closer, and she redirects her attention to the stars. A shooting star flares across the sky, and she squeezes her eyes shut to make a wish. When she was a child, she believed with her whole heart that wishes made on shooting stars came true; this fantasy died when nobody believed her about the ghost. Still, even as an adult, a part of her still hopes that the right wish made on the right star could come true. With all the stress waiting for her back in the city, she decides very quickly on her desire and sends the thought up to the burning meteor.

_I wish for a happy ending._


	91. Chapter 91

Unable to put it off any longer, Erin double-checks her email and its attachment and then presses send.

0-0-0

Holtz decides that she wants to try limiting the power source rather than making the experiment larger. This is due mostly to Patty, who claims that a bigger experiment might lead to a bigger explosion--and Holtz sees the logic. As much as she wants to see what would happen, she has to go with the safest option, especially now that her friends share her lab space. At least, that’s what she tells them, in her usual joking fashion.

In reality, the thought of another explosion has her rattled. The small scale light bulb situation had left her with a shake in her hand that stuck around for hours. A tightness took root in her chest that only lying in Erin’s arms could knock loose. She had to remind herself over and over again that she’s already dead. The pain is over. She is fine.

The first few attempts at limiting the flow of power are complete busts. Either nothing comes through or her efforts were totally in vain. She slumps over her desk while Patty tells her more about the book she’s currently engrossed in--not terribly well written, or so she’s told, but the facts are incredible. Patty’s done some serious cross-referencing to verify some of the claims, and it seems like a good portion of the book is based on solid facts.

“It’s wild, is what it is.”

Holtz nods with halfhearted enthusiasm. “Sounds like it.”

“Baby, you haven’t been listening to anything I’ve said.”

“Have, too.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Parts of it, anyway.”

Patty closes her book and crosses the room; when she reaches Holtz’s side, she places her hand on Holtz’s shoulder. “You want to talk about it?”

“Just the usual wizard angst.”

“I still don’t know how you have know all pop culture references from the decade you were a ghost.”

Holtz shrugs. “That new-fangled Youtube all the kids are talking about on the Interwebs.”

“It’s impressive, is all I’m saying.”

“I heard you talking to Abby about your Potter houses the other night. I got curious. I wasn’t really interested in reading fantasy novels when the books first came out, and I died before the series ended--but I’m working my way through them. The puppet videos aren’t too far down the Google searches I was running.”

“It definitely shouldn’t surprise me that you’ve got a nerd hiding under that machine oil and grease.”

“Hey now. I never got into the Legend of the Rings, or whatever it’s called.” Holtz winks as Patty sputters with indignation. She’s both proud of and slightly disappointed with herself that she is so easily able to avoid talking about her feelings.

0-0-0

She hugs Cookie to her chest as she spins around the living room. At first, Cookie is a very willing dance partner. He snuggles into her arms for a few twirls--but very quickly, his patience runs thin, and he scrambles to get out of her arms. The sensation of his nails digging into her skin makes her nearly throw him across the room. While he skitters off to under the bed, she drops to the ground and clutches her knees to her chest.

Erin walks in a moment later and sits beside her. She leans her head on Erin’s shoulder, and Erin wraps an arm around her waist.

“I sent my article off this morning.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“Sorta okay?” Erin hesitates. “It’s out of my hands now, for better or worse.”

“You have given the greatest gift to all mankind: your beautiful brain.”

Snorting, Erin tugs her closer. “I get the feeling you aren’t doing too well right now.”

“Cookie almost scratched me.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“How are you doing with that?”

“It’s heavy.” Holtz grabs her chest and digs her fingers in, as if enough pressure will allow her to excavate the nastiness. “It like sits on my heart--on my lungs, too. If I breathed much, I’m sure that’d be hard. I can’t really tell you what it feels like other than that. Heavy.”

“I’m here for you.”

Holtz closes her eyes. She wants to thank Erin for such being such a solid and consistent presence in her afterlife, but she can’t form words adequate enough to convey her feelings. She snuggles closer and hopes Erin innately understands.

0-0-0

“You put the wiring in upside down,” Abby chides. She grabs Holtz’s work and fiddles with it herself. “See?”

“Oh. I guess I did.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were messing this up on purpose.”

“No,” Holtz replies, although a small bit of her wonders if she isn’t. As long as the machine doesn’t work right, then using spirit energy isn’t plausible, and her existence isn’t at risk. Thinking this way is foolish, however, as they both know the mayor is working toward the same goal somewhere else in the city. They need to be first, and Holtz messing around isn’t helping them reach that goal any quicker.

“Well, just get it together, okay?”

Holtz nods grimly. “I’ll do my best, my admiral.”

“Did you tell Erin about your plans to elect her dictator for life?”

“Hah, as if.” 

Screwing a plate into place, Holtz leans back and determines that they’re good and ready for a real test run. Just to be certain, she has Abby check over her work, and then they both crouch behind the newly erected safety window. Pressing the power button with flourish and gusto, Holtz turns her attention to the light bulb placed a safe distance away. The building thrums to life, and the bulb flickers on. This time, there is no surge, and although the light is dim, it is clearly on and not exploding.

“It’ll take some time to get right,” Holtz murmurs. “Like, if we increase the power allotment, maybe we can bring it up to full glow--”

“Look at yourself,” Abby commands.

Holtz refuses, at first. She doesn’t want to see if their worst fears are justified. Instead, she stares at the bulb until Abby forcibly lowers her chin. She blinks, taking in her appearance. Absolutely nothing has changed. She prods her stomach just to be sure.

“I’m still here.”

“Yes.”

“And the machine works.”

“Yes.”

“We’re geniuses!” Holtz grabs Abby’s hands and swings her around the room--careful, of course, to avoid anything intrinsic to their masterpiece. “Can we call it Holtzmann’s monster? And then later, decades from now, nobody will know if it’s me or the machine that’s called Holtzmann?”

Abby gives her a noogie and grins. “I’m pretty sure we all know who the monster is.”


	92. Chapter 92

Holtzmann swirls into the apartment, scaring Cookie and causing Erin to jump. Erin, who is in the kitchen with a steaming mug of tea between her hands, manages to get out two syllables of complaint before Holtz has tossed her tea to the sink, swept her up, and pinned her to the counter. When Holtz kisses her, her disgruntled noises quickly turn into happy ones. She wraps her arms around Holtz’s neck to help keep herself standing. Holtz nibbles on her lower lip before drawing back and staring at her prey.

“My dear,” she drawls, “you look positively delicious.”

Erin snorts. “If you’re trying to be seductive, it’s not really work--”

Her words die as one of Holtz’s hands snakes between her legs and cups her groin. The warmth and pressure does exactly what the sultry pick-up line failed to: Erin falls against her, clutching her shoulders. Holtz suckles on her neck and doesn’t care a single bit that she’s leaving very visible marks in her wake. She lifts Erin up and sets her down atop the counter before sliding her hand under Erin’s hoodie. Erin’s stomach trembles under her fingers.

“We have a bed,” Erin whispers.

“I know.” Holtz lifts her hoodie and kisses just below her belly button. “Do you mind?”

“No. It’s actually… exciting.”

Loving how Erin’s cheeks flood with color, Holtz yanks the hoodie away and tosses it to the floor. Erin’s t-shirt joins it a moment later, and then Holtz takes her time gliding her hands along Erin’s bared arm and upper chest. Erin’s head tips back, allowing Holtz better access to her neck. Holtz takes advantage of this kind offering, touching all that Erin has to offer. Her skin is soft, and Holtz buries her face into the crook of Erin’s throat.

After a moment, she surges up to meet Erin’s mouth and immediately slides her tongue to meet Erin’s. She needs this intimacy, and she reaches up to cup Erin’s cheeks and keep Erin close. The efforts are unnecessary, however, as Erin isn’t interested in going anywhere. She grabs Holtz’s hips and jerks her against the counter.

Holtz pops free of her mouth and peppers kisses lower until she runs into the top of Erin’s bra. She pulls the cups down and drags her teeth across Erin’s hardening nipples. Erin arches forward into her mouth, and she obeys the unspoken demand; she sucks a nipple between her lips and spends the next few minutes devoting all her attention to making Erin cry out. She’s amply rewarded before she shifts down and pops the button on Erin’s jeans.

Erin puts her weight on her palms and lifts her hips up to allow Holtz to discard her lower garments. She shivers as her bare bottom touches down on the counter. She doesn’t have much time to focus on that because the tip of Holtz’s cool tongue is doodling on her inner thighs. She widens her legs and leans back, accidentally knocking the salt and pepper shaker to the floor. There will be a mess to clean up later, but she can’t bring herself to care at the moment. 

All she focuses on is how dang close Holtz’s mouth is to her clit and how badly she wants that contact. She whines and shifts her hips, and Holtz understands. The long, slow licks Holtz takes send jolts of pleasure through Erin, and she doesn’t try to restrict the moans bursting free from deep in her chest as Holtz dips ever so slightly inside and then continues up to flick across her clit.

For her part, Holtz soaks in every sound she earns and savors the flavor on her tongue. She doesn’t care that there’s arousal coating her chin--and likely the counter top as well--or that she’s moaning just as loud as Erin. She laps with her tongue pressed flat and her fingertips digging tightly into Erin’s hips. She almost wishes she were the lesbian version of Sisyphus, and that her task was bringing Erin to the tip-top of the mountain of her climax over and over again.

That wouldn’t feel like Hell to her, she thinks as Erin’s thighs clench around her ears. As Erin cries above her, she thrusts her tongue inside until her jaw aches. Erin orgasms suddenly, and all Holtz has as a signal is Erin’s hand snatching up her hair and yanking so intensely she might need a wig later. She wipes at her mouth and beams up at Erin, whose forehead is beading with sweat.

“I don’t mind,” Erin says. She doesn’t try to move, although Holtz is prepared to catch her should she fall. “But what was that?”

Holtz pets her thighs. “Abby and I had a breakthrough at the lab. The machine works.”

Erin sobers and lifts a shaking hand. “Are you--was it--”

“I’m sorry. Buried the lead a little there, huh? We got the machine to work, and it didn’t do jack shit to me. I’m going to be fine.”

When Erin falls onto her, Holtz holds her close and breathes deeply. Since this is permanent, she decides she’s going to treat everything a bit more seriously. She’s going to commit to her therapy sessions, and she’s going to make sure Erin is the happiest person in Manhattan. She’d say the world, but she’s seen interviews the Dalai Lama gives, and he seems like a man who understands true euphoria.

There’s a knock at the door, and Erin freezes. “Oh, shoot. I forgot.”

“Forgot?” Holtz helps her grab her clothing, which she hurriedly jams herself into.

“My parents. They were in town for a play and they wanted to take us out to eat.”

“Done that,” Holtz jokes.

Erin whaps her shoulder. “Holtzmann.”

“Want me to entertain them while you clean up?”

“Maybe we should take turns. You first, though.” Erin dabs a bit of her own arousal from the corner of Holtz’s mouth.

Holtz snickers and hurries toward the bathroom. “Try not to look like you just got fucked on your kitchen counter.”

Fighting a full-body blush, Erin drags herself to the door as her parents knock yet again. When she opens it, Catherine sweeps in and hugs her tightly. Richard edges in behind and pats her back. She steps back, hoping all the while that she doesn’t look as thoroughly pleased as she feels.

“Where’s Jillian?”

“Getting cleaned up. She just got home from work.”

Catherine spots the salt and pepper all over the floor in the kitchen and frowns. “Darling, are you sure she’s the only ghost haunting you? What happened here?”

Erin freezes, unsure how to explain this particular occurrence. Thankfully, Holtzmann returns, clean and dressed. “That would be our cat, Cookie. We’re trying to teach him not to jump on the counters, but that damn puss gets everywhere.”


	93. Chapter 93

Erin flees before her parents can see how red her cheeks are.

Holtz moistens a washcloth at the sink and wipes the counter down. Out loud, she explains that Cookie’s little kitten feet step in all sorts of gross things, like kitty litter; really, though, she just doesn’t want them to see the arousal drying in place. She quickly dusts up the spilled spices and sets everything right with a smile. By the time Erin comes back, Holtz is chatting with the older couple about their latest bust in vibrant, intense detail.

Richard looks incredibly grateful for the interruption. “Erin, you look wonderful.”

Erin glances down at her prim and proper skirt suit. She supposes she looks decent, although the faculty at Columbia would likely disagree. She hasn’t dressed like this in ages, and she’s forgotten how tight and uncomfortable the garb is. As the evening progresses, she realizes that’s sort of how her relationship with her parents feels, too. Yet, when her dad kisses her cheek goodbye, she can’t help but love the tickle of his beard against her skin. Despite their flaws, she loves them, and she’s glad they’re trying.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Holtz holds her close in bed later, and she grins as Holtz’s nose tickles the back of her neck.

“No.”

“You should have seen the looks your mom was giving me at first. I think she knew what we were doing before they arrived.”

“Oh my goodness, please no.”

“You weren’t exactly quiet. I bet people three blocks away were like, ‘Damn, sounds like Dr. Erin Gilbert is getting some right now.’”

Erin slides out of Holtz’s grip and glares. “And you were being so quiet yourself, huh?”

“Oh, I was extremely silent. I had my mouth full, remember?”

“You’re ridiculous.”

Holtz pulls her close again and nuzzles beneath her ear. “That might be true, but I’m here and I’m yours, and you have to deal with me.”

Feeling bold, Erin murmurs, “‘Til death do us part.”

“I already died in a fiery explosion. You want me to leave?”

“...no…”

Holtz thinks for a moment and asks, “Are you proposing to me?”

“Sorta?” Erin hides her face in her pillow. “Like, obviously the state of New York wouldn’t recognize it, but…”

“But…”

Closing her eyes, Erin concludes, “But it would mean a lot to me if you would agree to haunt me for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll think about it,” Holtz teases. When there’s naught but silence in response, she realizes this isn’t the right sort of moment for humor. “I mean, of course. That was my plan all along.”

“Great,” Erin replies, but the hurt tone of her voice belies the simple word.

0-0-0

Holtz doesn’t take Patty to the lab the next day, much to Patty’s chagrin. She’d been looking forward to seeing the machine in action, but her complaints die off as she looks up at the store front Holtz dragged her to.

“Any reason we’re at a jewelry store?”

Holtz nods. “Erin tried to propose to me last night, and I made a giant mess out of it. So, to fix it, I’m gonna propose to her.”

Patty laughs. “Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me at all, baby.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing. You know what style ring she likes?”

Holtz hesitates. “The engagement kind?”

“Oh, Holtzmann.” Patty grips her shoulders and steers her inside. “I’m so glad you brought me along.”

0-0-0

Erin watches Kevin with a sort of morbid curiosity. He’s at his desk with a pile of yarn sprawled in front of him. In one hand, he holds a crochet hook, and in the other is a knitting needle. A book is propped up against the computer screen, which she assumes is a pattern. Despite his tools being too different to work together, he can’t seem to figure out what’s going wrong each time he tries. Finally, after twenty minutes of observing his suffering, she crosses to his desk.

“Hey, Kev.”

He glances warily at her, and she recalls the very embarrassing span of her life when she fruitlessly hit on him, to his obvious discomfort. While he’s obviously aesthetically pleasing, the overbearing drive to seduce him has faded. She supposes this is a combined effort from meeting Holtz, learning of his boyfriend, and hearing that he had sex with Abby.

He clears his throat. “Hey?”

“Having some problems?”

“Oh, I’m almost done, actually.”

When he holds aloft the world’s ugliest patchwork of regrets and some form of crafting, she winces. “It looks great. Uh, what is it?”

That she doesn’t immediately recognize what he’s up to doesn’t seem to phase him in the slightest. “A scarf for my boyfriend.”

“Oh, I see.”

“He said he was going to give me the cold shoulder, so I thought I could warm him up.”

“Why would he do that?”

Kevin sets his beautiful monstrosity down and shrugs. “I don’t know. The last thing we were talking about was Abby.”

Erin grimaces. “Do you think he might have been upset you slept with her?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m in a monogamous relationship with Holtzmann,” she explains, “so that means I don’t sleep with other people. Is your relationship with Franklin open?”

“We don’t have business hours?”

Erin stutters, stops, and collects herself. “Oh, well maybe you should think about not sleeping with other people while you’re dating him?”

He freezes and stares at her, like this is a completely foreign concept. “Why?”

“Because… Well, you know, you should ask him about that. Maybe he can explain it to you.”

He picks his work up again and shrugs. “Oh, by the way, Holtz called earlier. She asked if you’d meet her at the lab in an hour.”

“How long ago did she call?”

“Like sixty minutes ago.”

Erin considers yelling at him. In the end, however, she just instructs him gently to please, please, please deliver messages as soon as they come in. He confirms that he will, but his flippant agreement doesn’t make her feel any better. She grabs her purse and hurries out the door.

When she arrives at the lab, all the lights are off, and she worries that she’s missed Holtz completely. The trek across town isn’t the quickest, so she is a little late. The door is propped open, however, which suggests that someone either forgot to lock up, or she’s supposed to go inside. A little anxious, she decides to check the area out before heading home.


	94. Chapter 94

Erin enters the lab space and flicks the lights on. The machine is off, and the room is empty. There’s a card sitting on Holtz’s work table, however, so she crosses the room and reads the message. Holtz’s untidy scribbles bring a smile to her face, as does the message, which instructs her to turn around. Still holding the card, she does as she’s instructed and finds Holtz on one knee before her.

“Holtzmann?”

Holtz wears a tuxedo t-shirt covered by a tweed jacket with leather patches on the elbows. Her ensemble is completed by pinstriped slacks and bowling shoes, which ought to look like a complete train wreck of an outfit but somehow works for Holtz. She digs into her pocket and pulls out a small box.

She’s practiced this speech on Patty a dozen times since that afternoon, but she can’t control how quickly she spits everything out at Erin. Her nerves get the better of her, and what was once an eloquent statement of eternal devotion turns into a rambling profession of love and confusion and reverence.

“Before I you, I was detached from everything in life--my mother, my work, the world. As a ghost, I existed without existing, without purpose. But then, I saw you, and my vision cleared. The static interrupting my connection was calmed, and despite my being dead, you gave me life. A reason for living. A purpose.” Holtz pops the box open and scoots a little closer. “You proposed to me last night, and I treated it like a joke because part of me is still uncomfortable with how comfortable you are. How we fit together. How easy it can be. But I wanted you to know that I’m going to take this seriously. Erin Gilbert, will you marry me?”

Erin stands stock still, her eyes glued on the sparkling ring in the plush box. Then, slowly, she pulls the ring out and tentatively slides it on her left ring finger. The band is a bit too large, but she has slender fingers, and that can be rectified later. Rather than diamonds, the ring is studded with small crystal opals. Erin appreciates the deviation from cultural expectations, as it seems fitting to their relationship.

“Is that a yes?”

Erin waits a moment longer and then smiles. “You tortured me last night, so I figured this was only fair.”

Holtz stands, throws her hands in the air, and loudly pronounces, “She said yes!”

“Did you think I wouldn’t?”

“Well, based on your proposal to me, I figured this was a safe gamble. But you never know.” Holtz notices a glimmer of tears gathering in Erin’s eyes and tugs her flush. She kisses her softly, first, and then with more fervor. “Did you think I’d say no last night?”

“I was afraid you might.”

“And you really don’t mind that we can’t really do this official like?”

“I don’t mind.”

“I was definitely thinking we could do something on the roof of the firehouse or something, with Patty and Abby, and our parents. And really, anyone else you want to invite.”

“I’d like that.”

“And for a honeymoon, how do you feel about your apartment?”

“Uh…”

“Hear me out. I know you wouldn’t be comfortable traveling with me and my belt, just in case something were to go wrong. So, let’s do a stay-cation. I’ve already looked into it a bit, like we could hire someone to make our meals for the week, and have masseuses come for a couple’s massage--”

Erin cuts her off with another kiss. “That sounds great, too. But let’s take this one step at a time.”

“Right. First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes the honeymoon in a honeymoon carriage.”

“I don’t think that’s how the rhyme goes.” Erin pauses. “Dare I ask how you paid for this?”

“I… may have borrowed your credit card this morning. I know, really romantic to buy your ring with your money, but I’m going to pay you back.” Holtz gestures to the machine at Erin’s back. “I had Patty start the patent paperwork for this baby. We can provide cheaper energy to the city and still make a lot of money--even if the mayor gets pissed we invented this first and cuts us off.”

“We’re sure it’ll work and not destroy you?”

“Nothing’s ever certain except taxes. Not even death. But I’m pretty damn sure this’ll work out just fine.”

Erin nods. Her grip on Holtz doesn’t loosen. “And I suppose if you get the patent--”

“It’ll be in your name, what with me being dead.”

“--if I get the patent, then we can control how much power is drained at a given time.”

“Exactly. Aren’t you glad you didn’t flip your shit when you found out about this?”

“I’m glad Abby didn’t flip it for me, as well.”

“Oh. That reminds me. We should probably call and let Abby and Patty know you said yes. Patty almost wouldn’t leave earlier, but I wanted this to be just you and me.”

Erin grabs her phone and notes three text messages waiting for her. She shows Holtz, who laughs. “I think they’re more excited than we are.”

Holtz kisses the tip of her nose. “Impossible.”

0-0-0

Although Erin wants to immediately start planning the small ceremony, her endeavors are waylaid by a constant stream of ghost problems. Mary Smithe’s legacy is exhausting to deal with, and on the last bust, she slips in a pile of ectoplasm. She’s too tired to catch herself, and she ends up on her back, staring at the ceiling and panting madly. Not for the first time, she curses the Smithe family name.

Holtz helps her back up. “You okay?”

“Winded and angry, but okay.” She wipes sweat from her brow. “How many of those devices did she hide in the city?”

“Apparently more than expected.” Holtz tugs Erin out of the way as a stream of ectoplasm jettisons in their direction.

“Really puts a damper on figuring out how I want to marry you.” 

Patty and Abby swarm around their target, and Holtz approaches the furious spirit as soon as her three comrades have stayed its rampage with proton blasts. She finds and removes the chip, allowing the ghost to get sucked down into a trap.

“That’s what, the ninth one this week?” Abby scoops the steaming trap up and glares, as if her rage could be felt even through the container.

“Tenth, actually,” Patty corrects her. “It was twins yesterday.”

“Any chance we can take Ms. Smithe out and rough her up a bit?”

Holtz dances from foot to foot and raises her hands in a show of faux-boxing. “I could take her.”

Erin grabs her hands. “Guys, we are not releasing an incredibly dangerous spirit so Holtz can engage in pointless fisticuffs.”

Patty, thankfully, agrees. “The best thing we can do is finish cleaning up her mess and then forget she even existed.”


	95. Chapter 95

Erin flops onto the couch and stares blankly at the ceiling. She listens to her colleagues moving about the firehouse but can’t bring herself to join them. Just for a few minutes, she wants the world to slow down and let her catch her breath. Instead, there have been six more super-charged ghost situations, a minor malfunction of one of their ghost zoo containment units, and a call from her mother nearly every morning. She regrets telling her mother about her engagement so soon because she has no time to plan anything, and so every phone call is a grating reminder that there’s more for her to do.

Holtz plops down in front of the couch and touches her elbow. “You okay in there?”

“Just tired.”

“Up for lunch with my mom?”

Part of Erin wants to say no, so that she can curl up into a small ball of non-existence. Rather than give into her asocial urges, she sighs and nods. “I think I can manage that.”

“Good. Because I want to tell her about us, and I’d like it if you were there.”

Holtz kisses her cheek and promises they don’t need to leave for another hour--so she can continue staring wistfully at nothing for a little longer.

0-0-0

Willa hugs Holtz tightly before turning her attention to Erin. Although Erin doesn’t expect much, she gets the same treatment as Holtz, which fills her chest with warmth. There’s something about Willa’s demeanor that Erin finds endearing--she suspects this is tied to how much Willa clearly cares about her daughter, no matter what, which clashes with how Erin’s parents treat her. Willa’s love for Holtz looks effortless, and Erin is pleased that affection is spreading out to her.

“I’m glad you wanted to do lunch,” Willa says as they part. “It’s been awhile since we last saw each other.”

“Too long, huh?” Holtz throws herself into a seat. Willa and Erin follow suit with a little less enthusiasm.

“You wouldn’t believe how many busts we’ve gone on recently.”

Willa leans forward and gazes at Erin, listening intently. “I hope you’re both being safe.”

“We’re trying to be,” Erin assures her.

“Erin’s gotta live a little longer, at least.” Holtz grabs Erin’s hands and grins. “We have something to tell you.”

When Holtz gestures to Erin’s ring, Willa gasps. “Is that what I think it is?”

“Yup.” Holtz sits up straighter. “I bet you didn’t think you’d ever get an in-law, huh?”

“I have to admit, I was a little pessimistic when I heard you’d died.” Willa transfers her gaze to Erin. “I’m excited to welcome you to the family.”

Emotion chokes Erin up, and she can’t reply. Instead, she smiles and, removing her hands from Holtz’s grip, grabs her glass of water. She sips it slowly until she no longer feels a moment away from crying.

“Thank you,” she whispers, even though the conversation has moved on. Willa hears anyway and smiles back.

0-0-0

“Shoot!” Erin slams into a bookcase as the ghost barrels past her. The air rushes from her lungs, and she sees dark, spiraling spots clouding her vision. 

Holtz pauses momentarily to ascertain that she’s fine before sprinting after their prey. Busting a ghost by themselves feels impossible, but Patty and Abby are on a separate call elsewhere. She’s not certain, but the ghosts seem to be getting more and more angry. She wonders if Mary Smithe didn’t leave them a little present somewhere in the city that’s making their lives Hell. She hears Holtz hollering for help, so she pushes the thought aside and careens down the hallway.

Holtz has a empowered sticky trap open, and she’s zapping the ghost with her proton blaster. Erin whips her weapon out and helps hold the enraged 1920s flapper in place, which enables Holtz to release her beam and sneak closer.

“Be careful. She’s like a swordfish on a thin fishing line, and boy, she’s fighting with everything she’s got.”

“Don’t worry,” Erin replies, grunting with effort. “She’s going to be dinner. I mean. Not that we’d eat a ghost. I mean, I would. Um. But not--you were just--with the fish metaphor--”

“Erin, please. Don’t make me laugh while I’m elbow-deep in an angry ghost.”

“Sorry!”

“Just hold her steady.”

“I’m trying.”

Holtz tugs free with an ectoplasm-covered chip a moment later. She tucks it into her pocket and grimaces. “How many of these suckers did she make?”

“Apparently enough to create an army of nuisances.” Erin waits as patiently as possible while Holtz picks her gun back up and helps her get the ghost into its box. “I hope Patty and Abby are having fun, too.”

0-0-0

Three hours later, they learn that Patty and Abby had zero fun. Their ghost was more than angry--he was clever. He slipped inside Patty as soon as they set foot in the door, leading to a physical altercation that neither woman is willing to discuss. Abby’s arm is in a cast, and Patty’s body is covered in hardening scabs, so Erin bets whatever happened was far from pleasant. The two will barely look at each other.

“Guys, I know nobody wants to hear this, but I think Mary Smithe hid something somewhere in the city to amplify how angry these spirits are.” Erin hedges before finishing her thought: “We need to talk to her, so she can tell us what it is and where to find it.”

Finally, Abby and Patty make eye contact. Abby speaks first. “Can’t we just find it on our own?”

“We don’t know what we’re looking for.”

“Man, letting that she-demon out of her cage is like asking for bad shit to go down.” Patty leans back in her chair and winces at some unseen pain.

“We could put her in the same unit as Quentin. Maybe that’d keep her calm and make her compliant.” Holtz shrugs at Erin’s curious look. “Just a thought. She was pretty obsessed with getting him back, wasn’t she?”

“Will one unit hold two ghosts?”

“I’ll run some calculations. Until then, we should just sit tight. Nobody do anything drastic.” Holtz gestures to Patty and Abby. “The two of you definitely need to talk through this whatever is going on right now.”

“It’s nothing,” Patty says at the same moment Abby grumbles, “We’re fine.”

“Very convincing, ladies.” Holtz tips her head and trundles off to her desk.

Erin clears her throat. “Did you want to talk--”

“No.”

She’s not sure who sounds more vehemently against the idea, but she does understand that she probably shouldn’t ask about it again. The room is quiet, and she realizes she finally has time to plan for the ceremony. All she wants to do instead, however, is sit and be quiet. That need wins out in the end.


	96. Chapter 96

Holtz sits on the edge of the bed and watches Cookie nap. He seems fairly content with his new life, and she’s glad she could help him out. Although he’s not overly fond of her, he tolerates being pet on most occasions for at least a few minutes; she bets he associates her with the violence that capped his life at his previous home. She can’t blame him for wanting to move on from that experience. She, too, wishes she could forget everything that happened there.

She carefully and very gently strokes the top of his head. He rewards her with a rumbling purr. Being around him sometimes makes her feel apprehensive for no particular reason, but she’s able to focus on moments like this that bring her joy even when she’s afraid of him. He parts an eye and blinks slowly at her. She smiles and withdraws her hand, deciding she’s pushed her far enough for one morning.

Erin bustles back in a few minutes later and beams at the two of them lazing about at opposite ends of the bed. “That’s really cute, y’know?”

Holtz flops onto her back and bats at an invisible piece of string. This silly behavior prompts Erin to come closer and skritch at Holtz’s belly. Holtz immediately forgets her string and grabs Erin’s wrist, tutting all the while that kitties do not like belly scratches. Erin has, for all intents and purposes, called down the wrath of Holtzmann the Cat, PhD. Screaming with laughter, Erin tries to get away. Despite her most stringent efforts, she’s tugged onto the bed, where she finds herself trapped by a very mischievous looking Holtz.

“Holtz, we have to go to work.”

“Right meow?” Holtz grins down at her. “Be a little late? Fur me?”

“Ugh.” Erin covers her face with her hands, both turned on by their position and utterly loathing her life because of Holtz’s puns. Well, she determines, if she can’t get Holtz to stop, she might as well join in. “I think there’s a claw-se in our contract that allows for personal days.”

Holtz kisses her more fervently than she’s ever experienced.

0-0-0

A week later, Holtz waves a page of notes in Erin’s face, and she’s forced to put down the article she’s sifting through. She accepts the offering with a sharp look at her fiance, who doesn’t look at all apologetic for her rudeness. That's just Holtzmann, however, so she lets the matter drop without trying to scold or chide the other woman.

“So…” Holtz wiggles her eyebrows. “What do you think?”

“I think I was expecting this to be about Mary Smithe.”

Holtz shrugs. “To be honest, I needed a bit of a break.”

Erin reviews the document once more and smiles. “You’re really going to say all of this in front of our friends and family members?”

Holtz’s toothy grin doesn’t falter. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I?”

“These vows are a little--risque.”

“What do you mean?”

“Erin, I vow that I will love you every way possible. Yes, even that way. You know the way I mean, and then there’s a note reminding you to wink,” Erin reads in a deadpan and then lifts her gaze to Holtz.

Holtz shrugs. “What’s wrong with that? Married people have sex.”

“But you don’t have to announce it in front of my parents.”

“I’m pretty sure they know.”

“I don’t want to think about them knowing.”

“Are you aware that they have sex?”

Erin closes her eyes. “I am aware that it probably occurs, but I don’t actively think about it, Holtz. I wouldn’t want them standing up at Thanksgiving and giving thanks to their wonderful sex life.”

“I’ll cut that from my Thanksgiving speech, then.”

“Holtzmann…”

“Okay, okay. Point taken. I will edit my vows down to a G-rating, if that’ll make you happy.”

“It will.”

0-0-0

“My friends!” Holtz leaps to her feet in the middle of an otherwise silent afternoon. She gazes from face to face with growing excitement. “Based on my calculations and very, very smart brain, we can safely charge the zoo containers to be a lot stronger--which means we can put momma with her momma’s boy.”

“I still think this is a bad idea.” Patty folds her arms over her chest. “We barely got her locked away, and now you fools wanna let her free.”

“Not free, exactly. Just free-er than she currently is. And once we’re done questioning her, we just pop her back in her box.”

“I understand how you feel,” Erin puts in. “But if we don’t do something about all these ghosts, we’re going to kill ourselves trying to keep up.”

Patty nods. “I’m just putting it on the record that this is bat shit, and y’all are bat shit for thinking it up.”

“Noted.” Holtz grabs her calculations and gestures for Abby. “Help me juice up the box?”

As they strut away, chattering eagerly, Patty sits down next to Erin and sighs. “I get it. I do. But seriously?”

“I know.” Erin fidgets with a pen that rests atop her desk. “If we had any other choice, we’d take it, but who else would know what she did and where?”

“The mayor, maybe.”

Erin shrugs. “She worked for him, for a while, but at the end there, it really did seem like she was on her own.”

“I don’t know. I just wish we could ask Jenn before doing this, see if there’s some intel she can leak us before we go messin’ with things we should leave well enough alone.”

“I wish we had time to wade through all the crud Mayor Bradley would tell us instead of the truth,” Erin replies quietly. She trusts Jenn to help them, but her information is only as good as the source--and Mayor Bradley doesn’t strike her as the sort of man who would leave that sort of information out in the open.

“I’m as tired as you are.” Patty grimaces and rubs the back of her neck. “All this time we’re spending busting ghosts is really cutting into my free time. There’s only so many hours when me and my girl are both awake, you know.”

“Are things going well?”

“They were up until this month, when every ghost in town decided to get angry at us. She gets that I’m busy, but it’s a strain. We already were limited, and now it’s even tougher.”

“If she’s the right fit for you, you two will work it out.”

Patty nods slowly and rises. “Well, that book on New York’s sewer system ain’t gonna read itself.”

“Do you really think knowing that stuff will help us bust ghosts?”

“No idea. But it’s fascinating.”


	97. Chapter 97

Holtz gingerly inserts the containment unit into the holding cell’s newly enlarged dock. Quentin’s unit is already in place, ready to be released at the punch of a button on Holtz’s remote. She makes sure Mary’s unit is secure and functioning optimally before closing the docking area and stepping back next to the rest of the group. They all exchange hesitant looks before Holtz presses the button marked ‘A.’ The display whirs to life, and the charges that keep spirits contained flicker into existence. Holtz lets this run for a minute before she proceeds to button ‘B.’

She listens to the metallic clank as the first trap opens, releasing Mary Smithe’s spirit up into the translucent viewing area. The ghostly fog slowly manifests into a definite shape, and a hand slams into the glass--well, Holtz amends, the hand slams into the particles keeping the ghost separate from the glass. She glances at Erin, who steps forward and raps her knuckles on the display to get Mary’s attention.

“Ms. Smithe, we have some questions. If you would please point to the letters painted just to my left to spell out your answers, we would be much obliged.”

“Y’all being that nice to a creep,” Patty mutters under her breath.

Holtz stifles a giggle. “Patty, don’t antagonize the one creature on this plane of existence who can tell us how to stop the madness.”

Abby elbows them both. “Guys. C’mon.”

Unable to hear this exchange, Erin continues to speak to Mary: “We know you left something in the city that’s charging up ghosts and making them angry. You also left a lot of those chips around. We need answers, Mary.”

The hand slams against the ‘N’ and then the ‘O.’

Erin remembers talking to Holtz like this and decides that one experience is definitely more appealing than the other. “If you help us, we’ll let you see Quentin again.”

G-I-V-E-M-E-M-Y-B-O-Y

“Give us answers, first. Then you’ll see him. We promise.”

D-O-N-T-T-R-U-S-T

“We don’t trust you either,” Patty replies. Erin glances at her but doesn’t tell her to stop, so she adds, “But difference is, we can definitely make sure you never see him again. We got him all locked up in a little box, and he can stay there until you change your mind. We can put you in a little box, too. Our house, our rules.”

Erin, feeling like this is true but a tad harsh, hurries to say, “We don’t want to keep you separate, but we need to know what you know.”

The hand detracts from the glass, and Mary’s body swirls closer to its former form. She floats around the box, a bit akin to an orca in a much-too-small swimming pool at SeaWorld. Erin repeats her demands and waits. When Mary says nothing more, she sighs and backs off to reconvene with the group.

“What do we do if she won’t talk?”

Holtz lets them discuss their perceived options, but she already knows what she has to do. She pops her belt loose and goes ghost. She hasn’t done this in a while, at least not long term. There’ve been moments here or there, but she’s gotten so used to being physical that not needing to touch the ground feels so entirely strange. Ignoring Erin’s flummoxed concerns, she drifts to the container and peers inside. In this form, she can make out Mary much more clearly.

“Hey, asshole.” She waves her hand until Mary’s attention is focused on her. “We gotta have a talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Yeah, I got that from the whole lot of nothing you were spelling for my friends over there.”

“You’re wasting your time.”

“Let’s start small. How many chips did you manufacture?”

“I didn’t manufacture anything.”

Holtz considers this. “You were working with the mayor, right?” There’s no immediate response, so she assumes she’s correct. “So, he’s making the chips?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“That doesn’t make much sense,” Holtz muses. “He’d be putting the people of New York City in a ton of danger. Those ghosts are super pissed off.”

Mary finally comes closer. “Have you ever been angry?”

Holtz shrugs. “Of course. Who hasn’t?”

“Didn’t it feel wonderful? Didn’t you think you had enough strength to do anything you needed to?”

Holtz doesn’t reply. She recalls being angry, but her negative emotions always left her feeling small and weak, rather than powerful. She supposes she can understand how other people must feel after bouts of explosive rage, but she’s always simmered rather quietly. Sure, there were outbursts, but they never felt good.

Mary doesn’t seem to care that Holtz hasn’t agreed. She slams her hand against the glass again and again. “Sooner or later, I’ll break free. If I’m angry enough.”

“Doubt it. That’s some mad science you’re banging on.”

“I see. Your approach differs from mine, I suppose.”

“Wait. Lemme get this straight--and correct me if I’m wrong. You were building a machine to harness power from the other side before you died, and when you came back, you went back to making that machine. But this time, there’s the added bonus of the chips you made based on my tech.” Holtz narrows her eyes. “There’s some connection, isn’t there?”

“Are you sure you received a doctorate from a real university? Or did you perhaps only attend clown college?”

Holtz ignores her. “The machine is powered by spiritual energy, and you’re going on about anger. Does anger supercharge spiritual energy? That would make sense, but we haven’t really studied that angle, yet. The mayor is still producing those chips because he needs angry spirits because your machine needs angry energy.”

“Let me see my boy.”

“I don’t have to.” Holtz watches Mary’s ineffectual tantrum. “You didn’t tell me anything useful. I put that together all by myself. Clown college degree and all.”

She returns to her belt, dons it afresh, and presses the third button on her remote. As much as she wants to torture Mary for the trouble she’s caused, she doesn’t want to give in to her more malicious tendencies. She doesn’t like feeling angry, and she doesn’t want to be just another evil entity.

Erin’s hand lands on her lower back. “Please don’t do that again without telling us.”

“Aye, aye. But aren’t you curious about what I found out?”

“Of course.”

“The machine she was working on is different than ours. We pull straight energy from the other plane, but I’m betting hers runs more on spiritual energy already on this plane. The mayor’s been making those chips to get the spirits riled up and angry because angry spirits have a really high energy output. I know we were worried about our machine sapping my ability to manifest, but really, hers is the one potentially out to fry me.”


	98. Chapter 98

“We can’t let that happen,” Erin spits out, nearly tripping over her consonants. She grabs Holtz’s arm, just to reassure herself that Holtz is still there with them. “We can’t.”

Patty’s hand lands on her shoulder. “Ain’t nobody gonna bust you, baby.”

“Not with us around.” Abby laces their fingers together.

For once, Holtz doesn’t mind all the physical contact. She revels in how firmly ensconced she is in this world and how hard her friends are willing to work to keep her there. Clearing her throat, she lifts her free hand and rubs at her eyes. A moment later, she’s crammed at the center of a very powerful group hug, and she’s glad breathing is optional for her.

0-0-0

Erin putters around the apartment, cleaning and dusting until Holtz forces her to sit down for a while. They cuddle together and talk in muted tones about their worries, about which Erin is much more open. She nearly cries at the thought of Holtz disappearing. Holtz rubs her back and wonders why she, herself, is not more concerned by the possibility.

When she mentions this to Erin, Erin sighs and shrugs. “You’ve been dealing with a lot of stuff lately. You can’t expect yourself to over-emote for absolutely everything.”

“But this is a pretty significant deal.”

“Yes, but to be honest, we’ve dealt a lot with the possibility that you might disappear. So, now, when the threat is a little more immediate, we’ve already sorted through our feelings.”

“You’re still nervous.” Holtz gestures to the piles of used cleaning supplies.

“I’m a nervous person,” Erin replies. “A side effect of being terrified out of my mind every night for a year, I guess.”

Holtz combs her fingers through Erin’s hair, causing Erin to go limp against her. She wishes she’d been around during Erin’s childhood. When they have kids, she’s gonna make sure those little dumplings know how they feel is valid and valuable. She’s pretty sure Erin’ll want to do the same thing.

“We all have a secret wound,” she whispers, her fingers still carding gently and working Erin’s scalp. “Something that makes us sad, even when we’re happy.”

“I don’t think that my being upset over maybe losing you is very secret.”

“It’s usually just below the surface. For me, it’s being abandoned.” Holtz rests her chin on the crown of Erin’s head and exhales slowly. “Remember when we fought about my wanting to be ready to move on?”

Erin stiffens. “Yes.”

“I was afraid because underneath everything, I’m afraid of people leaving you. I had to be ready to leave first. Maybe it’s irrational, but it’s something I know about myself.”

“Oh.”

“So, I don’t know exactly what fear drives you, but it’s not your fault, and you can’t control it. Just, do what you feel like you have to, unless that means hurting yourself. If that means cleaning, knock yourself out. Except not literally.”

Erin clings to her. “Nobody ever gave me permission. I mean, I know I’m the only one who controls what I do, but still… It’s nice. To have that.”

“I do what I can.”

0-0-0

At the firehouse the next morning, Holtz only partially focuses on her work. Truly, however, she’s watching Abby and Jenn talking in hushed tones. She can’t hear what they’re saying, but the moment looks somewhat intense. While she does want to respect Abby’s privacy, she also has a burning curiosity that’s hard to contain. She sets her screwdriver down and meanders casually in their direction; if she happens to hear something juicy, then that’s just fine. She’s not going over there only to eavesdrop. She also needs… a thing. She definitely needs a thing.

Abby spots her immediately and sighs. “Nosy, aren’t you?”

“Always.” She grins, unashamed of being caught with her hand in the metaphorical cookie jar. “Sorry.”

“Uh-huh.” Abby rolls her eyes and adds, “It’s nothing, okay? Jenn’s just been looking into the energy project for us, but we think the mayor’s purposely giving her bad information. He knows she’s more with us than him.”

Holtz cocks her head and appraises Jenn. “Not the most comfortable situation, hm?”

“No. Not really.”

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Help you all, and hope for the best.” Jenn shrugs. “I don’t think I have that many options, really.”

“True, true.” Holtz locks her hands behind her head and eases back on her heels. “So, any idea where this machine is being worked on?”

“I was just telling Abby that there are a few potential locations that I know of. There might be more, of course, but I’m doing the best I can.”

“We appreciate it.”

Jenn smiles at Abby, and the expression is so pleased and genuine, Holtz finally feels like she’s rudely intruding. “You want me to leave you two alone?”

They both flinch back, but it’s Abby who responds first: “What are you talking about?”

This isn’t her business to dig into, so she shrugs. “Oh, nothing. I just--realized how impolite it was of me to just barge into a private conversation.”

Abby stares at her, probably sure that Holtz is lying but unwilling to press for details in front of their guest. “I guess an old dog can learn new tricks.”

Holtz barks and walks away.

0-0-0

Erin reads the email a few times and then closes her laptop. After a moment, she opens it back up, logs back in, and reads the email again. Something--happiness, she hopes--coils tightly in her chest. Could also be fear, she recognizes. Having her article accepted by the Journal of High Energy Physics is both a boon and a burden. She’s been validated. Her work wasn’t all for naught. Yet, now she’s once more participating in the cut-throat world of academia, where her old peers would rather tear her apart for the smallest mistake than learn from her research and calculations.

She ought to tell the others the good news. Instead, she reads the email once more and sighs. She’s not sure if she wants them to know just yet because she’s not sure how she feels about the whole thing. She ought to be excited; the Journal of High Energy Physics is a relatively high impact journal, so people should take her work seriously. All she can foresee, however, is a flood of emails, sent solely to laugh and call her Ghost Girl.

She doesn’t want to go back to therapy. She doesn’t want the world thinking she’s lost her grip on reality.

Despite her feelings, she’s already pushed send, and the article is in line for publication. The best she can do now is pray that the world is more ready for her ideas now than when she was a child. She stands on wobbling legs and sets off to find Holtz.


	99. Chapter 99

“You’re brilliant,” Holtz states without any hesitation. She grabs Erin’s hands and beams proudly. “I knew it’d get accepted. They’d be dummies to reject you.”

Erin shrugs, trying to brush off her news like it’s nothing. There was a time when being published meant the world to her--she recalls getting the acceptance email just before her tenure review at Columbia, and her reactions could not be more different. A lot can change in a short period of time, she muses. She lost her job, found her friends, and got engaged to a ghost, all over a relatively short span of time in her life.

“It’s sorta--unnerving,” she replies. “I know I sent it off hoping it’d get accepted, but… now that it has, I’m worried about what’ll happen next.”

“I know I can’t just tell you not to. But I can distract you.” Holtz leans in close and brushes a few wayward strands of hair behind Erin’s ear.

“Oh?” Erin’s heart beats a little faster. “How do you propose to do that?”

Ghosting her lips across Erin’s, Holtz murmurs, “I think I’ll find a way.”

0-0-0

At Jenn’s behest, they all trundle down to town hall for an emergency meeting with the mayor. Abby mentions that she sounds a little frantic, which probably means something has gone wrong. Erin knows the tenuous line Jenn has been tight-rope walking for them and hopes she’s okay. Holtz tickles her sides to make her smile, and she can’t stop the desperate giggle-snort that makes her body flush bright red with embarrassment.

“Get all that out now,” Abby advises, “because we have to be serious professionals in front of the mayor.”

“Seriously?” Patty shakes her head.

“Well, we do.”

“The man wouldn’t know professionalism if it shit on his shoe.”

“Why would professionalism be shitting on anything?”

Holtz leans in, curious. “Maybe the mayor’s in a bathroom. That’s an acceptable location to--”

“We are not talking about this!” Abby throws her hands up, clearly regretting engaging in this conversation. “We need to focus.”

Erin nods her head in agreement. “Exactly, guys. This is our chance to really get to the bottom of things.”

“He ain’t gonna tell us the truth.” 

“We’re being invited into town hall. Yeah, he might not tell us anything, but one of us might need to use the bathroom…”

“That’d be me.” Holtz lifts her hand. “A bit too much to drink, if we’re being honest.”

“Do you even have bodily functions?” Patty peers at her.

“Sometimes.”

“...All she needs to do is enter the bathroom, remove her belt, and take a look around the building. If she can find where they’re building that machine, then she can get a closer look--”

“And I can start busting that shit up!” Holtz pumps a fist in the air, knocking her hand into the top of the Ecto-1, which set Patty off on damaging her uncle’s hearse. Erin settles back as they finish the drive and listens to the banter with a small smile on her lips. They’re good together, she thinks, and there’s no way she’s going to let the mayor mess with her family.

0-0-0

“I don’t understand.” The mayor folds his fingers over his stomach and stares with open puzzlement at Jenn. “Waldo is in all the pictures?”

“Yes,” she confirms. “The point is to spot him. The artist works to make the task difficult--”

“And someone thought this would be fun?”

Jenn’s response cuts out as she spots the ‘busters waiting in the doorway. She gestures for them to enter and then turns to Mayor Bradley. “Mr. Mayor, we need to talk.”

His puzzlement increases tenfold when Erin, Abby, Patty, and Holtz take the seats in front of his desk. “What are they doing here?”

“We need to talk about your energy plan.” Jenn moves out of the way, glad to let Abby or Holtz take over the more technical details.

Abby shoots Jenn a curious look, and Holtz determines that nobody knew Jenn’s plan except for Jenn. Regardless, Holtz isn’t one to pass up an opportunity to talk at length. She kicks her feet up onto his desk, despite his complaints, and stares him down. “My man, we hear that you’ve got some machine somewhere running off of angry ghost fuel.”

“That’s preposterous--”

“We’ve spoken with Mary Smithe, as well as her son Quentin,” Abby says. Erin doubts the mayor will give up so easily; he is a politician, after all, and obfuscating the truth is part of his job. 

Mayor Bradley hems and haws. “Their project was never--never actualized, I think is the word you scientists use. It was all purely theoretical.”

“And all the chips we’ve found across the city?”

“Chips?”

“We know you’ve been manufacturing them in order to harvest malevolent spirit energy.”

“Oh, no. That would be wholly irresponsible.” His words are on message, but his voice drifts closer to uncertainty. He chances a glance at Jenn, but Jenn offers him no support.

Sensing his weakness, Holtz grins widely. “We tracked down your supplier--cracked ‘em like an egg--” She splats her hand against her knee for emphasis, trailing her fingers down her shin. “--Gave you up in under a minute.”

Mayor Bradley’s facade crumbles quickly and immediately in the face of Holtz’s aggressive bluff. “It’s for the good of the people. Who doesn’t want cheaper energy that doesn’t ruin the environment? This is going to be great for my platform during the next election.”

“Well, nobody,” Abby admits. “But your solution comes at the cost of releasing pissed off spirits into this world.”

“That’s why I pay you girls.” He brightens, finally finding his footing in the conversation once more. “The city is eternally grateful for your service.”

“People are gonna get hurt.” Patty stands and places her palms on his desk. Even bent over, her height is imposing. He leans back to create some distance, but she follows him as far as she can.

In spite of her presence, he manages to maintain his easy grin. “You won’t let that happen.”

Jenn touches his elbow. “We can’t possibly account for--”

“They won’t let that happen.”

Arguing with him proves an ineffective waste of time. They file out slowly, with Abby bringing up the rear. Jenn murmurs an apology, just out of the mayor’s ear shot.

“When I figured out he wasn’t exactly an evil mastermind, I thought a direct confrontation might help him see reason.”

“Some people just can’t be helped,” Abby grouses. She nudges Holtz. “Any chance this one could use the bathroom?”


	100. Chapter 100

“How many properties could the city possibly own?”

Patty stares at Abby incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Abby grimaces. “I was being optimistic, okay? Thanks to Holtz, we know they aren’t building the machine anywhere in town hall, so it was either hope for the best or drown in the fact that we’ll never be able to stop him.”

Shrugging, Holtz kicks back on the couch. They’ve returned to the firehouse, and she’s enjoying the relaxed environment, even though things are about as dire as Abby’s statement. “We can definitely narrow things down. We know the machine needs a lot of space, so it’s gotta be a building over a certain square footage. And we can assume that they wouldn’t put it too near highly developed areas, just in case something went wrong and--” Holtz mimics the sound of an explosion and flares her hands beside her face. “Mayor Bradlame wouldn’t want that to come out around election time, huh?”

“No, no he wouldn’t.” Patty lays out a map of New York and circles various locations, which she explains to be lots that, according to public records, the city owns. There might be others, of course, but these are the ones everyone knows about. Once she’s circled sixteen or so places, she scratches out five with a red marker. “Those places are too close to residential sectors. These others are more industrial.”

“We won’t have access to most of them, will we?”

Holtz meets Abby’s gaze and dips her head. “I would love to be of service. One of you lovely ladies will just have to carry my belt for me.”

Patty leaps at the chance to explore more of the city on foot and hustles Holtz to the door. Holtz stares mournfully at her couch cushion but voices nothing more than a chipper goodbye before they disappear out into the world. Erin watches them go with a small smile.

“Think they’ll keep out of trouble?”

Abby clears her throat and replies, “Uh… sure. If that’ll help you relax, then yes. I think so.”

“Do I really seem tense?”

“I think your shoulders are spending a lot of quality time with your ears.”

Self-conscious, Erin adjusts her posture and sits a little straighter. She fiddles with the hem of her skirt when remaining still proves impossible. “My article got accepted.”

“Thought it might.” Abby hesitates and then asks, “How do you feel?”

“Really stressed.”

“I’ll bet.”

Erin stares at her. “What?”

“Erin, our physics teacher gave you a B+ on a paper, and you nearly had a melt down. What people think really matters to you, and here you are putting yourself out there again.” Abby heads for the kitchen, and Erin trails behind her. “It’s brave, and I’m glad you’re doing it, but you’re going to worry yourself to death about the possibility of negative reactions from people in the field.”

“Not to death…”

“Right. Please don’t. Honestly, one ghost on our team is enough. I don’t think we could handle two.”

Erin laughs stiffly. “But I get your point.”

“For a long time, I thought you were ridiculous. I don’t care what people think, so it was hard for me to imagine what that was like.”

Erin leans against the counter as Abby sets about making cookies. She steals a dab of cookie dough when Abby isn’t looking and has the gall to look innocent when Abby realizes what she’s done. When Abby warns her about the salmonella risk, she licks her finger and shrugs.

“I believe this is what the children call yolo-ing.”

“They don’t call it that.”

“They do.”

“I don’t think so.” Abby waves her hands. “But we’re getting off topic.”

“You know how much I enjoy wallowing in my self-induced misery.”

“Needing the approval of others is just a part of who you are, Er. It’s not inherently bad--what’s bad is that it takes over your valuation of your self. Regardless of what people say about your article, we all here know that it’s brilliant. That you’re brilliant.”

“Thank you…”

“I’m dead serious. I wouldn’t have let you send crap out. What you wrote was good, and yeah, some a-holes out there are going to say shitty things, probably without even reading it, but there’re also going to be people who think you’re onto something.”

“Like Rowan?”

Abby snorts and nods. “Yeah, like Rowan. Did you put anything potentially dangerous in this article? Like plans for another vortex?”

“No.”

“Then I think we’re okay.”

Erin moves to allow Abby access to the oven. “I just don’t want people to look down on me. I don’t want to see the dean of Columbia on the news again, explaining how my past affiliation with his fine institution is a dark stain they’ll never be able to remove.”

Abby’s hand curls into a tight fist. “I wish you could have punched him.”

“Next time I see him, I’ll think about it.”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Soon, the smell of chocolate chip cookies fills the air, and Erin tries to release the tension keeping her body tense and straight. Abby pours her a glass of milk, which she hopes is still well within its expiration date, and hands her a cookie hot from the oven. As she chews, she closes her eyes and savors the flavors.

“You make really good cookies, Abby. Like, you could stop being a Ghostbuster and just make cookies for a living.”

“Yeah, I could, but where’s the fun in that?”

“You’d probably live longer.”

“Not necessarily. I like to eat my creations, so I’ll either die from ghosts or sugar.” Abby bites into a cookie and sighs loudly. “Well, maybe one is better than the other.”

“Hey, Abby?”

“Yeah, Erin?”

“Thank you for being so supportive.” Erin gazes almost shyly at her best friend. “We’ve come a long way, and I can’t tell you how glad I am that you’re in my life again.”

“No chick flick moments, Gilbert.” Abby sniffles and winks. “Is that your way of saying you love me?”

“No. When I do that, I just say, I love you Abby.”

Abby dusts her fingers off in the sink, crosses the kitchen, and hugs her tightly. She feels a few of her vertebrae pop as she wraps her arms around Abby’s shoulders. They cling together in the sweet smelling kitchen for nearly a minute before Abby jerks back and wipes at her eyes.

“I got some flour in my eye,” she says, voice breaking.

“Better wash that out, then,” Erin replies kindly.


	101. Chapter 101

“Man, I wish we had one of them child leashes.” Patty grabs the back of Holtz’s jacket and tugs the wayward woman back to her side. “You cannot just run off and ditch me just because you saw a dog.”

“It was a cute dog…” Holtz grouses.

“You said that about all of them.”

“But did I lie?”

Patty guffaws and releases her grip. “Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that crazy little head of yours.”

“There’s a lot of singing.” Holtz decides to be a good companion and not bolt after the next dog she sees, so she matches her gait to Patty’s and tucks her hands in her pockets. “So, things heating up with you and your digital lover?”

Patty shrugs. “It’s hard, being so far away.”

“I feel you.”

“Yeah, I bet you know exactly how this goes. Without that belt, you might as well be in England.”

“Maybe even the moon.” Holtz strides along like the thought isn’t even minutely worrying. Sure, she’d hate for that to happen, but she’s gotta focus on the task at hand. “But, hey, I didn’t ask just so we could talk about me--as great a subject as I am. I feel like a lotta what we do and talk about at the firehouse is so me-and-Erin-centric.”

Patty wraps an arm around Holtz’s shoulders. “Thanks, baby. It’s nice to know you care.”

“I definitely do. So, lay it on me. What’s up in your world, way up there in the clouds?” Holtz tilts her head back to underscore her joke.

“Livin’ with Abby’s been good. I thought I was gonna kill her at first, but girl can cook. She makes a few messes, but it ain’t as bad as it could be. And she’s respectful.”

“How ever did you deal with all the rude people in the subway?”

“I got paid,” Patty jokes. “Y’know, I sorta miss the MTA sometimes. I love working with y’all, but I got to see a lot of people every day, and I got to read in my booth. It was calm, if nothing else.”

“Little boring?”

“Boring don’t mean bad.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Holtz purposely avoids stepping on a crack and nearly runs into a gentleman who is clearly in a hurry. He glares at her, so she tosses him a lazy salute. “I could do with a little bit of boring myself. Maybe a week or two of boring with Erin.”

“A week or two of boring with Rebecca would be nice, too.” Patty checks her phone and tilts her head toward a large warehouse-looking building up ahead and to the right. “Ready to go ghost?”

“Is there a phone booth around?”

“You ain’t Superman, Holtzmann.”

“I’m Supermann,” Holtz corrects, drawing out the extra ‘n’ to help Patty understand the distinction. 

They duck into an alley to avoid being seen as Holtz drops her belt, and her clothing, and zips into the air. The building is empty, so she returns, exchanges her clothes, and they continue on. The next few buildings are likewise unoccupied, and Holtz’s mind begins to wander away from their task.

“You ever gonna meet up with her?”

“Her?”

“Rebecca.”

“I’d like to. Just hard, y’know, since the ghosts don’t seem to understand the concept of a weekend or a holiday.”

“It’d be hard, but we could manage without you. Maybe I could even build a robot. Patatron 3000. Insert a quarter, get an interesting historical fact.”

“Is that how you see me?”

Holtz laughs and prances out of Patty’s reach. “You’re kick-ass, Pâté. You got the history, the hots, and the hokey pokey.”

“The hokey pokey.”

“You shake it all about.”

Patty pushes her shoulder. “Ridiculous.”

Holtz takes a step and then comes to an abrupt halt. She lifts her hand in front of her and watches the opacity of her skin suddenly dips down. Patty stares at the sidewalk through her wrist and frowns. They make eye contact and confirm that each other is seeing the same thing.

“Think we’re close to their machine?”

“Hell yeah.”

Holtz gazes around but has no idea which of the buildings might belong to the city. They’ve traveled to an area that’s much more devoid of pedestrian traffic, and most of the businesses appear to be manufacturing or shipping-based. She supposes this is as good a place as any to build a potentially dangerous machine.

“So, which one?”

Patty lifts a finger and devotes her attention to her phone screen. She clicks her tongue and shakes her head, showing that she isn’t sure. Before Holtz can pester her for details, she dials a number and waits.

“Ned, it’s Patty. Listen, I have a question. I’m looking for a particular building.”

While Patty rattles off the details, Holtz diverts her gaze to their surroundings. Somewhere nearby is the biggest threat to her existence she’s ever faced--and part of her wonders if this is the universe telling her she’s upsetting the natural balance. She’s dead, after all, and yet, she persists. She never likes quitting, but maybe she’s gumming up the works. Maybe this machine is Gaia’s way of saving the world from the problems caused by her existence.

“Thanks, man. I owe you one. Okay, so, I owe you two. You better cash in sooner or later, though, otherwise I’m just gonna rack up too much to ever pay off.” Patty ends the call and points to a building at the end of the street. “It’s not public record, but that one there is owned by a shell corporation with ties to the mayor.”

Holtz nods grimly. “Wanna check it out?”

“No.” Patty grabs her elbow and stops her from getting any closer. “We need back up on this one. If you’re flickering this far away, it’s only gonna get worse when we go inside.”

Holtz sighs. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“We only going inside once, clear?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I’ll get Abby and Erin down here. You see if you can teach them how to shut the thing down, just in case.”

Holtz is glad one of them is a strategist. Were she by herself, she might have just zipped inside and gotten exterminated. She’s a smart woman, but she’s often not focused on the bigger picture of what’s happening. As her high school science teacher told her, she saw the bark on the trees but not the forest. This doesn’t normally bother her, as she’s keen on details, but in cases where her lack of forethought could lead to destruction, she’s a little miffed by the intense focus of her brain. 

“They on their way. Should be half an hour, so get comfy.”


	102. Chapter 102

“I don’t think Holtz should go in at all.” Erin doesn’t look at Holtzmann. She finds keeping her voice even difficult enough as it is when she’s looking stolidly at Patty.

Patty grimaces. “She might be the only one who can shut this down.”

“I’ll do what I can.”

“Erin.” Holtz touches her shoulder. “If we don’t get this done soon, my existence will probably end anyway. I’d rather take a risk on this than sit around and wait until all my energy is sapped.”

“But Holtz, both Abby and I have similar training to you. I’ve watched you work with your materials--I even built your belt, at least at first. Just tell us what to do.” A hint of desperation fills her tone, and Erin can’t keep her fingers from trembling.

“Erin, we have one shot at this. Once the mayor knows we know where this is, he’s not going to let us anywhere near it.” Abby shakes her head. “As much as I want to think a brief lesson from Holtz on nuclear engineering would be enough, we just can’t take that chance. Holtz is the best person for the job, and we have to let her try.”

“No, we don’t. We can release details about what he’s doing to the public.”

“And out Holtzmann?”

Erin gazes miserably at Patty. “We don’t have to say anything about her.”

“We won’t, but the mayor will. He’ll say that we’re trying to shut down his energy project just because we have a ghost on our team. We’ll look like we’re protecting ghosts instead of the people of the city.”

Holtz takes Erin’s hand. “Gimme a second, kiddos.”

She leads Erin a fair distance back and sighs. “Erin, I know this makes you nervous, but we have to do this.”

“There has to be another way. We’re smart women. We can figure this out--”

“Maybe? But I’m not willing to wait to deal with this. Think about all the damage that these ghosts are causing, primarily because they have these chips that super power their anger. It’s only a matter of time before someone gets hurt.” Holtz pauses. She lowers her voice to add, “I hurt a lot of people when I blew my building up. I looked into it. Eighteen people killed and another thirty injured.”

“And you see this as some sort of act of redemption? Holtz--”

“Nothing can clear my conscience about what happened. All I can do is try to use my second shot doing better.” Holtz grips her forearm. “I’m going in there, with or without your support. I’d like it if you came with.”

Erin swallows past the lump growing in her throat. “I wish… I guess it doesn’t matter what I wish, huh?”

“I’m sorry.”

Erin kisses her cheek. “If you disappear, I’m going to kill you.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Holtz lets the joke fall flat and heads back to the group. She nods curtly at Patty, who sets off toward the building. They’ve been watching the front for a while and have determined that there’s so security to speak of. The only person they saw during their wait for Abby and Erin was a single man in a lab coat, who scurried out and drove away fifteen minutes prior. There might be others inside, Holtz considers, but they ought to be able to handle things.

Ten feet closer, she feels the first real strain on her ability to manifest. Her belt is working its hardest, but it can’t compensate for the sudden suction of her energy. She hears Erin gasp behind her, but she can’t concentrate on that at the moment. Instead, she closes her eyes and wills herself back to full physicality. The effort required to maintain this is tremendous, but she manages to turn her head toward Erin and grin manically, as if this were a walk in the park.

“Nothing to it but to do it.”

“Holtz, turn back. We’ll do this without you.”

A spark of frustration flares in Holtz’s stomach. She’s made her choice, no matter how reckless it might seem. She needs Erin to support her, not continue to undermine her determination. She solidifies. Blinking, she glances down her form and realizes exactly what she’s going to need to do in order to complete this mission in one piece. The Hulk isn’t her favorite superhero, but she’s not opposed to pretending to be him for an afternoon.

She cultivates the frustration, thinking about how most people in her life never fully trusted her decisions. Sure, she might be alive if she had listened to her mother about the belt--but it certainly had hurt more than she cares to admit when her mother never contacted her again. She draws on the ever-present pain of losing her father, losing her mentor, losing her life. Months of therapy get pushed aside as she luxuriates in her anguish. As they enter the building, she remembers the arguments she’s had with Erin.

Finally, she resorts to the memories of dying. When Erin tries to get her attention, she lets out a roar of fury and nearly hits the other woman. Patty and Abby instinctively step in front of Erin, who clutches a hand to her chest and looks at Holtz with unguarded fear. She can’t stop to feel anything but anger, however, so she turns back to the task at hand and marches onward.

Erin blinks back tears. “We shouldn’t have let her do this.”

Patty hugs her and rubs her back. “She’s the best shot she’s got at making it through this. We just have to trust that she can do this.”

Abby nods. “Let’s go give her back up, and maybe we’ll all make it out of here.”

“I don’t understand why she’s acting like this. She’s just radiating negativity. Aren’t you worried that even if we make it out, she’ll have crossed a line? She’ll be a malevolent spirit.” Erin presses her palms to her thighs and fights off a shiver. “We need to get her out of here.”

“Erin.” Patty pushes her forward. “We’re here, and we’re doing our job. I’m sorry, but you need to stop being selfish.”

“What?” Erin takes a few hesitant steps. “It’s selfish of me to want her to leave?”

“When she’s our only real shot, yeah.”

Abby links their arms to keep her on course. “C’mon. She can’t have gotten too far ahead.”

“We just lucky nobody’s stopped us.”

“Then let’s get this done before they try.”

Erin picks up her pace. The sooner they finish this, the quicker she’ll be out of her misery.


	103. Chapter 103

The machine sits at the center of a lab space. There are walls of cork boards around the room, as well as tables covered in papers, and tools scattered, presumably near areas in need of maintenance. The machine is on, rumbling quietly and flickering its lights. Holtz stands at the mouth of the room and stares. She fights desperately to keep her form. At least at first.

Once she starts feeling angry, Holtz can’t stop. She relishes in the fury boiling through her veins and loves how easy everything seems. What was she trying to do before? she wonders. She pushed all her feelings aside in order to make nice and be a good little ghost. All that effort and for what--she lets a burst of energy out, and papers along the walls ruffle. This isn’t enough.

This lab, and the mayor, have tried to kill her. Well, to use her spiritual energy, and in doing so, make manifesting impossible. That isn’t fair. She’s finally found a family and a place where she belongs. He’s not allowed to take that from her, and she’s not about to let him. Body hot, she lifts a finger and wills something to explode. She’s delighted when a roll of paper towels catches on fire and sizzles under her glare. Soon, the flammable materials near it begin to pop and flare.

She’s killed people before, she acknowledges. Her stupidity led to the death of innocent people, and there’s absolutely nothing she can do to change that. In fact, since she’s already committed an egregious crime, there’s not a lot she can do that’s any worse. That’s practically permission to behave poorly, especially given the fact that there’s no prison that will be able to hold her. Well, aside from a containment unit administered by her friendly neighborhood Ghostbusters.

The thought that her friends will inevitably turn on her incites more upset. She loves them all so much--Abby for her determination and passion, and Patty for her intelligence and kindness. Erin, most of all, if she’s being honest. They’re the first people she let close to her in a long, long time, and in the end, they’re going to have to hurt her. Because of this, they are no different than anyone else in her life. Dr. Gorin died. Her father died. Her mother abandoned her. Every single important person left her all alone, which is exactly how she died.

She can’t do that again. She can’t be all alone. She’d rather go out in a bang than watch her friends turn on her. Being put into a containment unit would be the ultimate isolation, and she is not going to let that happen. She’s going to bring this building down around her, and then she’s going to take Betsy and flee. Leaving them before they leave her is the only option.

Scared as well as angry, she levitates tables and smashes them around the room. She flings one at a camera in the corner, smashing the lens and sending debris flying everywhere. Straining, she lifts the central machine and turns to throw it at the doorway through which she entered. However, she spots her friends staring at her from just outside and hesitates. Erin steps forward, an arm partially raised.

Holtz hesitates a moment longer.

Erin says her name, and it sounds like the way her mother said her name the last time they spoke to one another before the accident. She hears the same sentences echoing: _Jillian, please. I just want to help you. I love you. This is--this isn’t healthy._ More than this, however, she hears her dismissal. _Not healthy, Mom? What’s not healthy is just moving on like you did. Did you even love him?_ She can’t take back what she said, and she can’t fix the way her words make her mother crumple in on herself. All she can do is sit in her apartment long after her mother leaves and cry and cry and cry until her salty tears splatter on her machines and cause one to go a little haywire.

“Jill,” Erin calls again.

She trembles.

All this anger, it’s not good for her. It’s so very easy to set things on fire and throw objects around as if she doesn’t care who lives or dies. The fact of the matter, however, is that she does care. She cares a whole fucking lot. She looks down at Erin and knows just how far she’d go to keep this world safe, just so Erin can keep existing in it.

Instead of throwing the machine and tearing the building apart, she clenches her hand. The machine crunches in on itself, and the pressure building around her disappears with an almost audible pop. She realizes then that she’s hovering a half dozen feet off the ground and lowers herself slowly into Erin’s arms. Erin hugs her close and sobs against her shoulder. She can’t quite make out what Erin is saying, as Erin’s mouth is pressed too closely to her skin.

Around the, Patty and Abby scurry about with a fire extinguisher. She doesn’t pay them much attention. She pushes on Erin’s shoulders and forces Erin a short distance away. Now, she can better make out the words that are tumbling mindlessly from Erin’s lips.

“I thought you were--I couldn’t stand it if you got hurt. Why did you come in here all by yourself? We were supposed to help you. What if you hadn’t made it? Holtz, what if I lost you? I couldn’t--I don’t want to deal with that. How could you?”

Holtz tugs her close again. She doesn’t have an answer or an excuse for any of this, and she hates how badly Erin feels. Erin’s fingers dig into her back, and she closes her eyes. She almost ruined all of this. She whispers apologies into Erin’s hair until Erin’s grip eventually loosens. Erin pinches her side.

“Don’t you ever do that again, do you understand me?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m serious, Holtzmann. Don’t.”

“I won’t. I promise.” Holtz lifts a hand. “I just… I got a little lost in my anger. I didn’t really know there was so much in me.”

“You can’t give into it,” Erin replies, still holding her tightly. “You can’t be malevolent.”

“I won’t be,” Holtz promises. “Not with you to bring me back.”

“Goddamn it, Holtz.” Erin sniffles and whaps her shoulder. She surveys the damage and sighs. “At least there’s no possible way they can get this up and running again, at least any time soon.”

“I aim to please.” Holtz adds much more quietly, “It was easy. So easy it was scary. I don’t want to do that again.”

Erin brushes strands of hair from her face. “You won’t have to.”


	104. Chapter 104

Holtz leans against the Ecto-1 with her arms folded over her chest. Abby stands next to her, appraising the building that Holtz nearly tore down. Holtz knows she ought to apologize, or something, for all the destruction she caused, but she doesn’t feel much of anything at the moment. She kicks the toe of her boot against the ground and sighs, which draws Abby’s attention.

“That was some job you did in there.”

“That’s what I was supposed to do, right?”

“To be honest, I pictured a little more technical skill and a little less… ghosting.” Abby shrugs. “But either way, the machine isn’t on anymore.”

“Won’t be on again for a long, long time,” she replies, her voice low.

“This really bugging you?”

“I hulked out, just like you always thought I would. Don’t you want to cage me and put me away where I can’t hurt anybody?”

“Y’know, when I saw you hefting all that metal overhead and aiming at us, it crossed my mind. But the fact is, you didn’t do it. You could have killed all three of us, and you didn’t do it.”

“I couldn’t. You guys are… are family.” Holtz clears her throat. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not like that. I can’t just turn my back on you.”

“And that’s why we won’t have to bust you.” Abby punches her shoulder. “We’re bros. Unless you hurt Erin. Then…”

“I won’t. At least not on purpose.”

“Then I don’t think I’ll ever point one of your babies at you.”

Holtz grins, her spirits a little lighter. She and Abby joke until Patty exits with Erin. Their arms are full of papers, and Patty declares the space free from dangerous information. Holtz helps stash the papers in the back, and then, they all finally get to go home. She’s glad the whole ordeal is over, and all she has to worry about moving forward is what crazy contraption she wants to build next.

0-0-0

“This is unacceptable.”

Erin clears her throat and tugs at her collar, peering at the screen. There’s video footage of Holtz’s rampage playing, although the tape cuts out when something large and heavy smashes the lens.

“Who--uh, who is that?”

The mayor stares at her, and his gaze is unyielding. “Ms. Gilbert, your… associate has caused millions of dollars of property damage.”

Erin leans forward and wipes at a non-existent smudge on the screen. “Sorry. Thought I saw something.”

“I do not pay you three to break into government run research laboratories, and I certainly do not pay you to let a ghost wreak havoc anywhere.”

“She didn’t really wreak havoc. I mean, it was really contained?”

He doesn’t smile, despite her best efforts to lighten the mood. “You need to capture that ghost, or you won’t see another dime from town hall.”

Her smile dies, too, and her expression soon matches his.

0-0-0

She drags her heels as she returns to the firehouse, where her friends are each at their own workstations. Abby notices her first and stands to greet her. She barely responds, instead choosing to lumber upstairs and fall onto the couch. One by one, they all trail up after her, and she waves off their questions.

“We need to have a team meeting.”

“Oo,” Holtz says, dropping down beside her. “Are we going to braid each other’s hair and talk about boys?”

Erin stares blankly at her. “What?”

Understanding that this maybe isn’t the best time for levity, Holtz sobers. “Sorry. You were saying?”

“My meeting down at town hall wasn’t with the guy I usually see.” Erin picks at the hem of her skirt. She usually dresses more relaxed for when they’re around the firehouse, but a meeting at town hall is good reason to dress up nicely. “Mayor Bradley wanted to see me instead.”

Patty cocks an eyebrow. “Bet he wasn’t too happy with losing his energy machine.”

“No, no he wasn’t.” Erin doesn’t want to keep talking. If she just stays silent, then they won’t have to deliberate. Things can remain in limbo. She’s already promised herself that she’ll respect the decision the team makes, as this isn’t just about her and Holtz. There’s so much more at stake, and she can’t just rip the funding from their fingers because she’s in love.

Abby squats in front of her and touches her knee. “What is it?”

“He had a video of what happened.”

“Shit,” Holtz mutters. She stands and paces the room. “So, he saw…?”

“Everything.” Erin watches her pace. “And he wasn’t thrilled, I can tell you that.”

“What else?”

“Hm?”

Abby’s expression is deadpan. “C’mon. I know you’re holding out on us.”

“He gave me an ultimatum.”

“That’s never good,” Patty puts in. She grabs Holtz by the shoulders. “You pacin’ is making me nervous, baby. Stop. Ain’t helping anyone.”

Holtz leans against her. “Sorry.”

“He told me that either we capture Holtzmann, or he removes our funding.”

Abby’s grip on her knee tightens. “Well, first of all, fuck him.”

“Second of all, hell naw.” Patty hugs Holtz closer. “We not getting rid of this squirt.”

“Guys.” Holtz pulls free. “You really need to talk about this, okay? You’re doing a lot of good here. You’re helping people--and Ellen only knows how many of those chips are still floating around. Without funding, you can’t do any of that. People are going to get hurt.”

“You want us to put you away?” Patty stares down at her, incredulous. “For real?”

“Look, I lived my life. And then I died, and I got to experience the world a little longer anyway. But you guys, and the people in this city, you’re still on your first chance, and it might be the only one you get.” Holtz turns away so they can’t see her face. “I think you need to have a real discussion about this. This is a big deal.”

Erin fights back tears. “Holtzmann…”

“I’m going downstairs, okay? Just come find me when you’ve made up your minds.”

She descends and buries herself in her latest project. This might be her last go at things, and she doesn’t want to leave her friends without something really cool to keep fighting ghosts with. This particular idea came to her in the middle of the night, and she’s been working on bringing it into existence for a while: a glove with a charge in the center, somewhat similar to Abby’s ghost-puncher, but a good deal more refined. The glove is lightweight, easy to use, and a lot more safe. Whoever gets to use this baby will be taking ghosts down like they were nothing.

Which, she supposes, is what a ghost is. 

Nothing.


	105. Chapter 105

“Guys, we’re all in agreement, right?” Erin sucks in a deep breath and controls her ragged breathing. “We’re not doing that to Holtzmann.”

“No way.”

Abby shakes her head. “Holtzmann is a part of this team, and we’re not going to do that to her. But if we’re not going to capture her, we definitely have to discuss how we’re going to keep our doors open. The rent here isn’t cheap.”

“We have the museum,” Erin offers miserably.

“Nah, it’s more of an oddity than an attraction at this point.” Patty grimaces. “As nice as that’d be, it’s just not a feasible source of steady income.” She hits on a sudden idea and proposes, “What about the ghost energy machine we made?”

“We know it works, but actually figuring out a way to distribute power to anyone is still quite a ways off,” Abby replies. “But that’s a good thought.”

“We could try public donations. We’ve been busting enough ghosts that people are probably still aware of us. And they don’t think we’re just frauds.”

“Combine that with maybe doing some public appearances, and we might have something.” Patty stands a little straighter. “We could do a little bit of branding, too--y’know, get in on that merchandising. I seen a girl wearing a shirt with our logo on it. Someone’s makin’ money on that, and it ain’t us.”

“Good. That’s settled then. No matter what, we don’t hurt Holtzmann.” Abby looks them both in the eye in turn. “We don’t hurt anyone. We’re a team, and the team comes first.”

They throw their hands center, count up to three, and shout different words because nobody thought to clarify what their chant would be before engaging in the activity.

0-0-0

Erin takes the pole down, her eyes clenched closed the entire trip from one floor to the other. She’s not afraid of heights, exactly, but she’s also not their biggest fan. Her feet light on the floor, and she immediately spots Holtz’s poof of golden hair in the corner. Holtz is bent over a pile of metal and appears to be shaking. Erin hurries over.

“Holtz? Are you okay?”

Holtz drags her gaze up from her work. “When are you guys going to do it?”

“Never.”

Holtz blinks. And then blinks again. “What?”

“We’re not letting that asshole boss us around anymore. There was no choice, Holtzmann. You were always--will always--be the one we pick.” Erin cups her cheeks. “We’ll find funding some other way, but we’ll never find another you. Okay?”

Holtz grabs her wrists. “Are you… are you sure?”

“It wasn’t even a discussion. Capturing you is just not an option.”

The trembles Erin thought she saw before intensify, and she hugs Holtz to her chest, rocking back and forth until Holtz seems calmer. Holtz clears her throat and leans back.

“I’m just sorta used to people walking away, y’know? Or dying. That happens sometimes, too.”

“Not anymore. I’m here for you, and so are Patty and Abby.”

Holtz sniffles and says, “Ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind.”

“Or forgotten,” Erin concludes. “Still surprised you’re so up-to-date on pop culture.”

Holtz shrugs. “Nights were long when I wasn’t sleeping, and the internet has a bountiful harvest.”

“Well, since you’re sticking around, I guess I’ll have to tell my parents that we’re getting married.” Erin tousles Holtz’s hair. “Good thing I think they’re starting to like you, ghost-ness and everything.”

“Everyone eventually comes around. It’s part of the Holtzmann Charm.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Holtz winks, and she flushes. “See? I still got it.”

“If by ‘it’ you mean ‘a ridiculous approach to life,’ then yes, you do.”

0-0-0

Holtz rubs the muscles of her back, digging in a little deeper than necessary at times, but Erin isn’t willing to complain. They’re meeting her parents the next afternoon, and the stress is killing her. Thankfully, this death comes only in the form of sore muscles and a slightly upset stomach. She lets Holtz knead out the agony in her back, and she pops a few Tums to handle her stomach. There’s not much else to do until the next day. She knows she has to tell them before the ceremony, what with her desire to invite them. She just wishes she could fast-forward until after she’s told them, so she doesn’t have to deal with it.

“You’re tensing up again.”

“Sorry.”

“What’s got you so worried?”

Erin sighs. “They’ve never really liked certain parts of me. So, me marrying a ghost woman is probably their worst nightmare. Just once, I want to be the daughter they’ve always wanted.”

“Screw that.” Holtz leans down and kisses the tip of her ear. “You be the woman you’ve always wanted to be. That’s more than enough for me.”

“Thanks…”

“I know it’s hard. You’re talking to the woman who scorned her mother shortly before kicking the bucket. I definitely understand parent-child strife.”

“I know you do.”

Holtz nods. “But this is different. This is a lifetime of anxiety and pressure, leading up to one announcement. And based on your previous experiences, you have every right to believe it won’t go well.”

“So, I shouldn’t do it?”

“No, you definitely need to do it. And I’ll be right there next to you, holding your hand. If you need me to, I’ll even haunt them for a few days, if they’re mean about it.”

Erin laughs. “Don’t you dare.”

Holtz’s fingers find her sides, and her laughter intensifies. She scrambles back, and Holtz gives chase. They tussle around the bed until the allure of a tickle fight finally wears off. Holtz scoots under the covers and lifts her arm. Erin follows after and cuddles up against her chest. She rests her ear on Holtz and listens. There is, of course, no heartbeat.

“Sometimes I forget that you’re dead.”

“Me, too.”

“But I don’t think I’d change it. Like we talked about before, if you hadn’t have died, we wouldn’t have met the way we did. We wouldn’t be here right now. You’re amazing and brilliant, Dr. Holtzmann, and I’m so glad I met you.”

“Dr. Holtzmann-Gilbert? Dr. Gilbert-Holtzmann? Or should I just take your name entirely?”

“You don’t think I’d want to take yours?”

“Seems a little silly for you to change your name legally to that of a dead woman’s. At least for me, there’s no paperwork.”

“I’d sorta enjoy having your last name,” Erin admits. “There’s a lot of baggage with mine.”

“That baggage is part of who you are.”

“For better or worse.”

“We could try using a combination last name. Gilbmann.”

“That’s silly.”

“What? You like Holtzbert better?”


	106. Chapter 106

“You look well.” Catherine kisses Erin’s cheek and squeezes her shoulders. “I’m so glad to see you.”

Erin smiles, but Holtz is the one who replies: “Family is important. We thought it’d be nice to really double down on rebuilding relationships. We’ve seen my mom a couple of times, so it’s your turn to get your fill of us.”

Richard shakes her hand heartily. “We’re glad to hear it. So, tell me about this machine you’re building.”

He leads Holtz away, and Erin is left standing with her mother. They eye each other almost warily until Catherine clears her throat and gestures to the kitchen. “Help me with the roast?”

“Sure.” Erin follows after. “You know, I’m not very good at kitchen stuff. Passable, I guess, but not very good.”

“Consider this an opportunity to learn, then.”

Erin leans on the counter and watches her mother putter around the room. For a few minutes, they exchange pleasantries--comments about the weather and their health--but silence descends when they run out of topical conversations to have. Erin hedges but decides she needs to ask.

“Mom, am I… good enough?”

Catherine pauses mid-stir of the gravy. “Of course, dear.”

The answer isn’t exactly what Erin is hoping for. She tries again. “When I was younger, you made it pretty clear that you agreed with the therapist--that I was just seeking attention. And you stopped asking about my relationships as soon as you found out I was bisexual.”

“Erin…”

“Whatever I was, it just wasn’t enough.” Erin grips the counter to keep her hands steady. “So, sorry if it puts you in an awkward position, but I need to know.”

Catherine dries her hands on a towel and fiddles with her hair. After a few moments of tense silence, she says, “I know apologies aren’t worth very much, especially after so long, but I am truly sorry for how my words and actions made you feel. Looking back, I see how wrong I was in my reactions. You’re my daughter, Erin, and I’m so proud of you, no matter what. You’re more than enough, just as you are.”

Erin fidgets. “Mom, I’m going to marry Holtzmann.”

“Congratulations, darling.” Catherine pulls her into a tight hug. “She’s lovely, and I’m so happy, just as long as you’re happy. You are happy, right?”

“Incredibly.” Erin limits herself to a single word to avoid having her voice crack and break. She clings to her mother and buries her face in Catherine’s shoulder. The last time she got a hug this satisfying from a parent, she was six years old. She closes her eyes and inhales slowly, treasuring this moment and hoping for more like it in the future.

0-0-0

Richard laughs raucously at Holtz’s joke, and Holtz dips her head in a mockery of a bow. She’s pleased by his reaction and knows that they’re going to get along just fine for the next several decades. The best part is that he likes her puns; she wishes Erin inherited his sense of humor. She glances at Erin as the thought strikes her and evaluates Erin’s smile. She determines that they are in no immediate danger of any sort of breakdown, so she returns her attention to Richard.

“Y’know, I think we have something to tell you,” she drawls, propping her cheek on her palm.

“You do?” Richard casts his gaze to Erin, whose smile weakens.

“They do,” Catherine confirms.

Holtz grins. “Sooner or later, I’m gonna start calling you Pops.”

“What she’s trying to say is that we’re getting married.” Erin lowers her hand and shows him her ring. “Well, as married as a living person can be to a ghost. There’ll be a ceremony, anyway.”

“And vows of undying love.”

Erin rolls her eyes. “Vows of undying love that have hopefully been edited to exclude content that is not family-friendly.”

“I’m working on it,” Holtz retorts, scoffing. “I think my vows are perfectly great the way they are.”

“Holtzmann, you know exactly what you need to change and why. I’m not going to have this argument in front of my parents.” Erin pauses, realizing that they are indeed at the table, and neither of her parents has said anything. She knows her mom approves, but her father hasn’t reacted one way or another.

Richard dabs his lips with a napkin and then sets his hands atop the table. “Jillian, we need to have a serious discussion.”

“Yeah?”

“I know my daughter is fully grown and capable of making her own decisions. That said, she’s still my daughter, and I’m still her father. If you hurt her--”

“Dad, you’re being so embarrassing!”

“If you hurt her,” he tries again, “I don’t think I could forgive you.”

“Not going to threaten me with a shotgun?”

He shakes his head. “No. If you’re the one Erin wants, then I support that. I just wanted to make my position clear.”

“You were translucent, my good sir.” Holtz extends her hand, which he takes. “I’m going to do my best to make sure she keeps smiling. I mean, she’s obviously allowed to be unhappy sometimes, but I’m shooting for about a eighty-five to ninety-percent happiness rate.”

“Then I think we’re going to get along just fine. Maybe we could even play a few rounds--”

“No tennis,” Catherine interrupts. “You will not throw your shoulder out again.”

“Fine,” he grumbles. “Maybe we could even watch a few rounds.”

“Heck yeah,” Holtz enthuses. “And Mrs. Gilbert, Mom, I’d love to learn a few of Erin’s favorite recipes from you. She doesn’t eat enough, does she?”

“Too focused on her work, if you ask me.”

Erin groans and hides her head in her hands. Of all the ways she expected this to go, she hadn’t foreseen Holtz joining forces with her parents. She digs into her pot roast and slowly lifts her gaze. Holtz jokes with Richard and grins at Catherine--and the whole scene seems perfect. Erin realizes that she’s not immediately going to be able to move past the insecurities her childhood instilled in her, but she’s got a family around her who loves and supports her. Eventually, she’s going to be just fine.

Holtz catches her eye and smiles. She mirrors the expression and luxuriates in the relief permeating her being. This is what her life could be from this point forward, and she’s extremely excited for more meals like this one. Who knew all her relationship with her parents needed was a little ghostly activity? She supposes that makes sense--a ghost drove them apart, so of course a ghost would bring them back together.


	107. Chapter 107

The chip clatters to the floor, and Holtz bends low to pick the damn thing up. She’s getting really tired of cleaning up these messes, but the mayor apparently bought a ton of the devices with the hopes of fueling his machine for years to come. Over the past two months, they’ve taken down way too many angry spirits for Holtz’s liking. On the positive side, they’ve become a well-oiled machine when it comes to busting ghosts. However, their own will power is flagging.

Holtz tosses the chip to Erin, who tucks it into a pocket for safekeeping. They have a pile of them at the firehouse now, locked away securely in a safe where nobody will ever misuse them again. Abby wants to destroy them, but Holtz wonders if they can’t be transformed into something actually helpful. Both Patty and Erin stay out of the argument, as neither really wants to get involved in a disagreement. That’s the only fair way to deal with fights, they all agree--nobody is allowed to take sides, so there can be no hurt feelings regarding who stood with whom.

“Another one bites the dust,” Holtz announces as she wipes the ectoplasm from her palms. She can hear Erin’s groan from quite the distance away, and she knows she probably could have found a better means of cleaning up than sullying her uniform.

“Good riddance.” Patty slings her wand over one shoulder and surveys the damage to the ice cream shop. “It’s too bad we couldn’t have done this one quicker, though. I liked this place’s sundaes.”

“They’ll open again sooner or later. Have insurance companies in the area wised up and added ghost insurance to their policies, yet?” Abby asks and then laughs.

“The rates would be crazy high,” Patty responds thoughtfully.

“Maybe that’s how we make our money.”

“Holtz, honey, you know that insurance companies have to pay out sometimes, too, right?”

“They never did when I was a kid. Maybe that was before your time, though.” Holtz grips her lower back and hunches lower. “I’m older than all you whippersnappers. You little hooligans better stay off my lawn.”

“Oh, shut up.” Abby pushes her, hard enough to make her stumble a few steps. “You look like you’re twelve.”

“I have a great skin care routine.”

“I don’t care how nice your skin is. I ain’t gonna die.”

Erin snorts, loudly, and waves for them to leave. “C’mon. We have another call across town. Nothing big. We’ll be home in time for Project Runway.”

All three of her teammates clap her shoulder as they walk past, although Holtz lingers a moment to pinch her ass and wink. She follows them out to the car, grinning all the while.

0-0-0

Erin’s head pushes back into the pillows while Holtz’s fingers plunge into her. She squirms as every nerve ending within her is ignited by Holtz’s attention to detail and desire to make her scream. Her feet begin to tremble, followed by her knees, and then her thighs. Straining out a version of Holtz’s name, she comes hard and fast. She wipes at the sweat gathering on her forehead and wonders how Holtz does it.

“Be right back,” Holtz promises.

Erin sighs and spreads out, desperately trying to cool down. As the winter months approach, slowly but surely, she’s turned the heat on. Mostly, she appreciates the added warmth. When Holtz is working her magic, however, she feels like she’s going to melt into a puddle. Sometimes, she wonders if she ought to be ashamed of how wanton Holtz makes her--how wet and how wild--but Holtz assures her that she’s, and she quotes, sexy as fuck and a fly little lady.

Holtz reenters shortly after, grinning and still naked, save for her belt. The front of her hair is slicked back, suggesting that she washed her face. “How you feeling? All de-stressed from that intense action this afternoon?”

Erin nods and finds her tongue. “C’mere.”

Holtz obliges. They spend the rest of the night curled up together. Erin is pleased to fall asleep in Holtz’s arms and wake up the same way.

0-0-0

Patty tosses the bills onto Erin’s desk with a dejected sigh. “I have to admit, I don’t miss the mayor, but I do miss his pocket books.”

Erin reads over their charges and grimaces. “We do use up an inordinate amount of energy. I wonder how close Holtz is to getting our spirit generator up and running.”

“Not close enough. We have until the end of the week to pay.”

“Shoot.” Erin sets the bill aside and wrinkles her nose. “Looks like we get to try your Kickstarter idea.”

“Not so fast.” Jenn raps her knuckles on the door, even though she’s already inside. “I might have convinced the mayor that you deserved some severance pay, especially given the trouble he caused you.”

“You still work for that dick bag?” Patty huffs and shrugs. “I guess everyone’s gotta hustle somehow.”

“Yes, I do. I figured someone with a brain ought to, and I already had the job.”

“You mentioned severance?” Erin gazes hopefully at her. “Is that in the form of residual payment?”

“He’ll pay for the next two months of keeping this place running, which should be long enough for you guys to get your act together. In return, he asks that you don’t mention his part in all those chips you’re harvesting.”

“Typical.” Abby enters with Holtz hot on her heels. “You can’t just expect something to work because you saw it in a dream.”

“I beg to differ,” Holtz replies. “It was really close to functioning, wasn’t it? I always say, every mess gets you closer to success.”

Abby spots Jenn and halts. “Hello…”

“Hey.”

“Well!” Holtz strides forward and plops into Erin’s lap. “Jenn, you coming to the wedding? Next Saturday, on the roof.”

Jenn watches Abby. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“No, we’d like it if you came,” Abby says, averting her gaze. She heads to her desk and roots around for something. “Please.”

“Then I’d love to. What time?”

“Six on the dot. There’s a party afterward, so come ready to dance.”

Erin gives Holtz a small shove. “You might be dead, but you still weigh a ton. Get off me.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

Holtz flees before Erin can smack her for her comment. She darts past Jenn and escapes to the safety of the second floor. Plopping down on the couch, she pulls out her vows and reviews them once more. She’s got a week left to make them absolutely perfect. Erin deserves nothing less.


	108. Chapter 108

Erin checks herself over in the mirror again. She knows the dress fits correctly, but she’s terrified there’s some small flaw she’s overlooked. Her attention to detail has been lacking as of late, and the last thing she wants is to look foolish. Maybe they ought to call everything off. She dismisses the idea immediately. As intimidated as she is by the prospect of pledging the rest of her life to someone else in front of everyone she cares about, she can’t just run away now. Patty’s girlfriend flew in from across the Atlantic, just for the occasion. Also to see Patty, she admits.

There’s a knock at the door, and she reluctantly lets her mother in. Catherine hugs her quickly and then quickly adjusts her dress in case she’s tugged something out of place. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you, Mom.” Erin turns to the mirror and sighs. The delicate, white sheath dress fits her lank frame perfectly, thanks to a few last minute fittings, and Patty’s done her make up so well that she hardly recognizes herself in the beautiful woman staring blankly back at her. “It’s just… this is a big day, huh?”

“Yes.” Catherine stands beside her daughter, beaming. “Thank you so much for allowing us to be here.”

“I’ve always wanted you in my life, Mom. I just didn’t always know how.”

“This whole thing with Jillian and ghosts--it’s been good for all of us. I feel like we have a fresh chance to know each other.”

“I feel like that, too.” Erin turns away from her reflection and bolsters her courage. She’s going to walk down that aisle and marry her best friend, and not even her nerves will be able to stop her.

0-0-0

Holtz adjusts her dress and beams at Patty, who stands at the head of the small platform she built just for this occasion. There are four seats on both sides of the aisle, all but one of which is filled. She hasn’t formally met Patty’s girlfriend Rebecca, but she’s finally figured out that Rebecca is the daughter of her old mentor--she’s sure they’ll have plenty to talk about later. She shifts her gaze onward and winks at her mom, before smiling at Abby and Kevin, who are seated next to a gentleman who looks honestly confused. That’s Franklin, she deduces. Jenn is next to Abby, although the two have hardly glanced at one another, and Mr. Gilbert waits with an empty seat beside him. Shortly after, however, Mrs. Gilbert hurries to her seat and shoots Holtz a thumbs up.

Holtz digs note cards out of her bra and reviews them while Patty digs her phone out and proceeds to play some slow classical melody. They’d decided against the traditional wedding march, as they didn’t feel their marriage was anything close to resembling typical, but Erin still wanted something soft and sweet. She watches as Erin crests the door to the roof and walks down the aisle with precisely placed steps and a beatific smile. She extends her hand, which Erin takes, and guides Erin onto the platform. Damn, she thinks. Erin looks gorgeous, and all that runs through her head is: _This wonderful woman agreed to be mine_.

“Hey, y’all. Thanks for coming out.” Patty lifts a hand in greeting to the small crowd. “As we all know, we’re here to celebrate the love and union of these two lovely women in front of me. I met Erin at a low point of my life--just after gettin’ chased down the subway by a freaky ghost. She’s supported me every day since, and I’m honored to know her. Holtzmann, on the other hand, none of us met until much earlier this year. To be honest, Abby and I were skeptical about the whole ghost-as-Ghostbuster idea, but Holtz has proven us wrong at every turn. She’s loyal, determined, and the perfect match for Erin. 

“When they asked me to help them sanctify their relationship, I planned out a three hour lecture and a Powerpoint presentation. Erin talked me out of most of it, so give her your thanks later. I just want y’all to know that these two women are incredibly important to me, and it means the world to be here today to help them come together. They’ve both written their own vows, and now’s the time to share.”

Erin clears her throat and turns toward her friends and family. “I tried writing this over and over again, and it sorta came out… Just don’t judge me, okay? I borrowed from a source.

“While you could possess me because you are a ghost, I belong to myself. But while we both wish it, I give you that which is mine to give. You cannot command me, for I am a free person. But I shall serve you in those ways you require, and any food you choose to eat will taste all the sweeter. I pledge to you that yours will be the name I yell when I spot a fire, and the eyes into which I smile in the morning. I pledge to you my living and my dying, equally in your care, in the hopes we can spend eternity together.”

Holtz waits for her to finish and then announces loudly, “Erin Gilbert, I was alive before I met you, but I never truly lived. I am a ghost, yet you’ve made me feel more like myself, more vibrant and whole, than I ever felt before I died. I vow to you on this the day of our union that I will never let you sleep alone, unless you ask me. I will never abandon you, unless you send me away. I will never give you up. I will never let you down. I will never run around and desert you. I’m never going to make you cry. I’m never going to say good bye. I’ll never tell a lie and hurt you.”

“Holtz, are you Rick rolling us?” Erin stares at her partner.

“You made me take out the good stuff.” Holtz winks. “But honestly, what he says is good. Erin, you’re stuck with me by your side for the rest of your life. A full commitment’s what I’m thinking of.”

“Aw, just kiss already,” Abby hollers.

“You heard the lady,” Holtz whispers as she dips Erin back into a melodramatic kiss. As their lips touch, the ground beneath their feet shakes violently. Holtz holds her steady and, when the rocking stops, says, “I always knew those lips of yours were magic, but that's a little ridiculous.”

Erin totters to the edge of the building and surveys the damage up and down the street. Smoke trails into the sky in the distance. She doesn’t have the heart to chastise her wife, and soon, everyone is at staring out into the city with her. Police sirens wail in the distance, and the building quakes again. Their guests holler at the disturbance, but her attention is fixated on the ghastly glowing on the horizon.

Just once, she thinks, she wants a calm day where there are no emergencies. This day was supposed to be a lovely get together with all their loved ones where they celebrated their union and danced until their feet were sore. She meets Holtz’s gaze and centers herself; disturbance or not, she’s married to her ghost. They’ll meet this new challenge together, and that’s all she needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for tagging along on this rambling adventure. I appreciate every kudo and comment, honestly and truly from the bottom of my heart.
> 
> If you'd like to talk to me, hit me up on Tumbler @fullboyle


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